Our Current Predicament
by Glistening Sun
Summary: "Sweetheart, if I'd known all you wanted was a backrub, we could have saved ourselves our current predicament," Andy whispers into my ear and makes me laugh. Our current predicament, as he so aptly calls it, is very visible now in a bump I can no longer disguise with loose tops and scarves.
1. Our Current Predicament

The day at the office has been long, I'm tired and my back is sore. I had forgotten all these little downsides of pregnancy and I suppose my age doesn't help either. Andy is already there when I arrive at the apartment and I find myself pulled into his arms the moment I step through the door. I lift my face for our customary kiss and relax into his embrace with a sigh, letting all my weight rest on him. It seems he knows just how to hold me and for a moment we simply stand there in a silent embrace. Then he takes my purse and steadies me as I take off my heels silently vowing to change to flats even though with Ricky and Emily I had been wearing heels until I was much further along.

Andy doesn't say much, walks us over to the sofa with his arms around me and eases me down. His hands are on my back now, rubbing all the right spots and making me moan in a curious mixture of relief and pleasure. I'm a bit surprised by how loud and needy I sound, but that thought is gone the moment he starts nibbling my earlobe and I hear him chuckle in amusement. "Sweetheart, if I'd known all you wanted was a backrub, we could have saved ourselves the current predicament." I know he is joking, and he makes me smile. Our current predicament, as he so calls it, is very visible now in a bump I can no longer disguise with loose tops and scarves. Obviously there are looks now and whispered words and I do at times feel a little self-conscious.

We joked about it a lot when we first found out and were stunned beyond belief: a pregnancy at my age, parenthood at our age. The decision to keep our little one was the easiest, that was a given from the start: Neither of us would ever have considered an abortion and old though we may be, we both love children and are looking forward to becoming parents once again.

That a pregnancy this late in life could also pose a serious health risk to me was a lot harder for Andy to accept and come to terms with than for me. We had quickly opted against all the tests and screening that would have only given us the option to terminate the pregnancy, but putting my life on the line was far more difficult, especially for Andy. He made me promise that should it come to a situation where my life hung in the balance, I would opt for my own life rather than our baby. We've done all the paperwork, so ultimately it would be his decision to make and I am okay with that. Really, I am not expecting anything to go wrong. I tire easily these days, but I guess that's to be expected. The doctor is happy with my health and the progress of our little one, everything is going well so far. I have always been healthy and I do know how to take care of myself – and having Andy by my side does make it all so much easier. Just last night he said something that had me speechless with gratitude and love.

/

He had done it again, anticipated my wish before I had fully formed it in my mind. „Thank you, Andy, you are too good to me," I whispered into his chest and stifled a yawn. I was content to just be here, surrounded by his wonderful scent, his hand resting warm and heavy on my abdomen.

„You're welcome, sweetheart. But you shouldn't say that."

„You want me to not thank you?" I asked, feeling tired and a bit disoriented, not sure if I was following him correctly.

„No, you can thank me and I love that you do. But don't you ever think that I am too good for you." The intensity in his voice woke me up.

„But you are spoiling me, Andy, you really are," I emphasised, "I feel like you're reading my mind, you seem to know what I need even before I'm conscious of it." I felt his hand against the side of face, and then he gently cupped my jaw to align my eyes with his, waiting until I was looking right at him.

"You forget that I am a detective, I watch and read people for a living. I am not spoiling you, sweetheart. I am being here for you. I love you, and you love me back and that's already pretty special. But what you are doing for me is the most amazing thing a woman can do for a man. And there is no way I could ever repay you for that. Anything I do for you, I do because I love you, and you never need to feel it's too much. Sharon, you are carrying our baby and right now, there's so little I can do for our little one except look after you. I wish I could take the nausea, and the discomfort, and the achy back from you, but there is nothing I can do about that."

Isn't he just so special? And I did notice that he left out the one thing I've struggled with most in this pregnancy so far: Swollen legs and feet. Gone are the days men would turn around to stare at my legs…Well, Andy still does look at them and he even went to my physical therapist with me to learn a massage technique to drain the excess fluids. That just floored me. Since then, every night without fail, he's been there, taking care of me and of my achy back and swollen feet with such tenderness it makes my heart contract almost painfully.

"So, until our little one gets here, you get a free pass. Anything I can do for you, I'll do it. It will never be too much. It will never be spoiling you. You deserve every bit of care and attention, every hug and every kiss." He looked at me with a serious expression and wouldn't let go until I had assured him, twice no less, that I understood. He is adorable how he picked up on that particular quirk of mine. My older children used to make fun of me for always having them repeat certain points twice, and so did Rusty later on. Andy turns my own technique back at me and he is a complete natural.

/

Andy is also good at keeping me connected to reality. "Do you want to have dinner now or take a nap first," he asks now and lets me rest back against his chest. Most of these days, I do indeed fall asleep on the sofa while he is making dinner and if not before dinner, I then fall asleep in his arms while we are catching up on the news or watching a movie. It's an easy domesticity we have settled into. He hasn't officially moved in, but we have discussed living arrangements and have decided to postpone the final decision until after our child is born. Because, sadly, there is the possibility that I won't have a baby to hold in my arms at the end of this pregnancy. It's something we do talk about from time to time, but the idea frightens us both and we try not to dwell on it.

"Let me get changed and then I can help you cook," I volunteer and enjoy how his hands come up and rest around my belly, "and we can have an early night together." He holds me for another moment, his hands moving to where our little one is softly kicking, wanting to tell us, I think, that everything will be fine and we will soon be parents once again.


	2. Kicking

I held Sharon until her stomach gave a noisy rumble and then got up to get started on dinner. I was fully expecting her to fall asleep, but true to her word she is back within a few minutes to "help" as promised. Her help these days consists of hugging me from behind, her arms clasped around my waist and her head resting against my back, telling me stories or just being quiet and holding me tight.

I like to tell her she is like a little monkey and the first time I did that, she actually did try and climb on my back. I was completely blindsided and almost toppled over. After that I was a bit cross with her; she could have so easily have fallen and hurt herself and the baby. But she just laughed, pressed herself against me and kissed me and it was forgotten. She knows full well I can't stay upset with her when she's that close to me.

She would never attempt something like that now though. She leans on me, counting on me to provide some of the strength she doesn't have so much of anymore. We both enjoy the closeness after we've had to keep our distance all day at work. Some evenings we stay like that for a matter of minutes only, longer on others before she leaves and curls up on the sofa.

/

I love observing all the changes that have come along with her being pregnant. There are the obvious ones like her fuller figure (although I would never admit that to her) and her baby bump, but there is also that soft expression, a far away look on her face when she thinks nobody is watching her. Sometimes I find her talking to our unborn child in a soft voice I've never heard her use before. There is a whole new side of her I had only glimpsed with Rusty. Now, with every move, every step, it is clear that her life is no longer just about her, but about the new life growing inside of her. To think that I am the father of that child makes me swell with pride.

Initially, I had expected her to become more thoughtful and there are these moments, particularly when we talk about the risks associated with the pregnancy, when the doctor gave us that long list of things that could potentially go wrong. But there is also a lightheartedness to her now that I adore. Like when she pretends to be a monkey. She is downright cheeky at times. It seems that now that she's showing, appearances have become less important to her and with that has come a certain laxness when it comes to rules.

Sharon being lax about the rules is a sight to behold because she knows exactly how far she can go and how to make them work in her favour. It's given us a few unexpected twists in our investigations, one or two suspects a bit of a fright and all of us a good laugh. Of course, Sharon is still Sharon and she never does anything not in line with the handbook she herself wrote. Provenza is probably pregnant Sharon's biggest fan, but I am not allowed to tell her that. I think she knows though, because the two of them have started going out for lunch, ostensibly to discuss the running of Major Crimes during her maternity leave. They never invite me to join and I know better than to ask. He however asks me every single day how our Captain is doing. His concern is quite touching, really.

/

Dinner is well on its way now, the soup simmering quietly on the stovetop so I turn around and take my little monkey into my arms asking her about her day.

"I've been sitting through budget meetings while _your_ child has been playing soccer all day long," she pouts leaning into my embrace.

"If _my _child has been behaving so badly, I have to make it up to you, but do tell me, what has _your_ child been up to all day?"

The doctor says our child is very active and that it's a good thing. My poor Sharon has to put up with a lot these days and sometimes I wish the little one would slow down to give her a break - but I do remember our wonder at the first kicks we felt.

/

I had been sitting quietly at my desk finishing up the lastest case report, Provenza had already moved on to his crossword and Buzz was talking tech with Tao, trying to figure out why they had had so much difficulty in tracing a call earlier that week. In short, it was a perfectly normal afternoon for the Major Crimes Team until we heard Sharon's voice.

"Lt. Flynn? My office, please. Now!" Sharon took no prisoners when she used that tone of voice so I got up immediately. I was a bit surprised, I wasn't aware of anything that would have warranted me being called in like that. I felt my partner's eyes on my back wondering no doubt what I'd been up for the Captain to order me into her office.

The blinds had still been closed from an earlier meeting with Taylor and when I opened the door, I saw her standing by the window, both hands on the swell of her belly, looking all happy and excited.

"Close the door, Lt. Flynn," she ordered loud enough for everyone to hear and once I had done so, she motioned for me to come over.

"Andy, come over here, quick, come," her voice was quiet and soft now, but when I didn't respond as quickly as she would have wished, it became more insistent. "Come here, come on, Andy! You need to feel this!"

She grabbed my hand and pushed it against her stomach, her eyes never leaving mine. And then I felt it, too. A soft flutter, then another one, right underneath my fingers.

"Sharon," was all I could say. Our child, I could actually feel our child! I used my free arm to pull her against me, never letting my other hand leave its place on her abdomen.

"Is this our little one? Is our baby moving?" I whispered in barely contained wonder.

"It is! Oh Andy, I've been waiting for this to happen for a while now and I had so hoped you would be nearby when it happened. And just now, I finally felt it." She sounded so jubilant and happy and I couldn't resist kissing her. We'd never kissed in the office, we'd never even touched much before here, but this was such a special occasion and it's not like the team doesn't know about us or the blinds weren't drawn. She seemed to think along the same lines, because she kissed me back and made one of her happy little hums while our little one moved again inside of her. It was almost too much for me to take in at the same time.

"Is this really the first time?" I asked again, taking a deep breath to keep myself grounded.

"Yes," she beamed "Sorry to sound so harsh earlier, but I really wanted you to feel this with me. I didn't want us to miss this." and then it was her turn to kiss me.

We stood like that even after the movements had stopped, content in our little bubble and unwilling to break the magic of the moment.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Hell, Sharon, you could send me to sensitivity training again if it meant I could share this moment right here with you."

/

I can tell she is enjoying her soup, going for seconds and then for thirds. That's another change, the pregnancy has taken away a lot of her restraint when it comes to eating, but that is another thing I won't be telling her. She remains at the dinner table, feet propped up on a second chair while I finish up in the kitchen. When I take a peek from behind the cabinet door, she is bent over, whispering words to our child I cannot hear, a serene expression on her face. Seeing her like that always makes my heart miss a beat. I love that woman, and I love how much she cares of our child, not yet born, but already part of our lives.

"Sharon," my voice is quiet, barely enough to carry over to her, but I don't want to startle her.

She turns to look at me with that beautifully serene expression still on her face that turns into a wide smile when she hears my next words. "I just want you to know how much I love you."

When I offer her my arm to get up I'm surprised she puts her full weight on it and stifles a groan of pain. I can see that this pregnancy is hard on her body and I know that she is at an age where she should be playing with grandchildren, not carrying another one of her own.

Just before we fall asleep I hear her voice: "I'm glad we're having this baby, Andy."

We do that. Every night one of us will assure the other that we are doing the right thing in having and raising this child together. It's our thing and it means a lot that she is the one to offer the words to me tonight. I'm not sure she's still awake to hear my whispered response, but I say the words to myself as much as to her. "So am I, sweetheart, more than I could ever say."


	3. Finding out

By the time we're ready to leave for work I have forgotten all about yesterday's resolution and am about to slip into my favourite black heels when I hear Andy clear his throat. I turn around and see him standing there, a pair of black ballerinas in hand. He amazes me. He would never openly tell me what to do, but his intent is very clear. He has watched me as I was getting dressed this morning and he has found a pair of matching flats. What really strikes me though is that he obviously knew where to find them.

Just how, I see that he has been observing me all through this line of thought, obviously seeing everything play out on my face because it's morning and I am at home with the man I love. Contrary to what many people think, my face is actually very expressive. I have just gotten proficient over the years at keeping my emotions off of it if it suits the purpose.

I love that Andy still doesn't utter a single word, standing there looking me directly in the eye with the beginnings of a smug grin.

"Oh, alright then!" I finally concede and hold out my hand for the proffered ballerinas. My favourite pair, and I think he knew that, too. He didn't just pick these particular ones by accident. I put them on, straightening myself, hands on my back and it's my turn to look him in the eye: "There, happy now?"

Andy takes a few silent steps towards me, pulls me into his arms and rests his chin right on top of my head, something he can't do if I'm in heels. He wiggles his chin around a bit, drops a kiss on top of my head and speaks for the first time since our silent exchange began: "Yeah, that works. Happy."

I do so adore this caveman vocabulary, particularly when I know he's doing it to amuse me. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his neck, my eyes drifting closed. "You are right, this works."

/

The queasy feeling in my stomach actually started not long after Andy and I had first become intimate. I didn't pay much attention to it. It was there, but then so were the butterflies and the excitement at seeing him and knowing how he felt about me, the thrill at this forbidden relationship. I had no idea where my head was half the time anyway, everything was new, I felt like a girl falling in love for the first time.

Then there was a weekend where I got dizzy a lot, but it wasn't until I woke up Monday morning to a feeling of intense and very familiar nausea that I realised what was going on. Andy was still asleep next to me and I tried all sorts of breathing exercises to calm my stomach – and my nerves. When I could no longer ignore the need to be sick, I disentangled myself from Andy's warm embrace and padded over to the bathroom.

That's where he found me, dry heaving over the toilet bowl. I didn't even notice him until he knelt down behind me, carefully gathering my hair into a bun and rubbing my back with soft soothing motions. His concern while unvoiced was so clearly evident in the way he touched me. As I was overcome by another wave of intense nausea I found myself thinking that maybe there was good reason for that concern. I was utterly exhausted and sick to my stomach and wouldn't have had the strength to get up from the bathroom floor by myself. I leaned back on my haunches with a groan and found myself pulled against a warm, solid chest, a small towel ready to wipe my mouth and a cup of water waiting for me.

"I should have stayed on the couch last week, or better yet at home," he chastised himself and I realised he was thinking I had caught his stomach flu from a while back. I had told him then that I _never_ get sick and now it seemed like he might be in for something bigger than passing on a few germs to his, for want of a better word, girlfriend.

When I felt a little less dizzy I decided that it was as good a time as any to share my suspicions. I didn't want to cause him more distress than necessary, so I tried to put him at ease first: "It's not the stomach flu, honey. This feels very different."

"How does it feel different?" he responded immediately and I could hear the doubt in his voice, he clearly wasn't buying me trying to make him feel better. I just hoped he wouldn't go wishing it was just a stomach flu once I had shared my suspicions with him.

"If I didn't know any better, this feels exactly like being pregnant and having morning sickness."

Andy suddenly became very calm, wrapping his arms around me and turning me so we could look at each other. "And do you know any better?", he asked quietly.

"Other than the fact that I am entirely too old, no, not really."

"Okay," he said, still remarkably calm, analysing the situation in his mind. "Okay…uh, okay," he continued and I realised he wasn't going to make a run for it. Not that I expected him to, but I do know he has a temper and a tendency to act first and think later. I had considered that he might run only to come back again later. But he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he tightened his arms around me a little more and dropped a chaste kiss on my cheek. "I love you, Sharon, and I will be with you. Whatever happens, know that I love you and that I will never leave you alone." Gosh, how I love that man. His first priority was to reassure _me_, to put _my_ mind at ease. Such simple and kind words and just what I needed.

Unfortunately, my stomach choose that very moment to rid itself of whatever contents there were left in it and I was hanging over the toilet bowl once again, retching and heaving. Only that this time I was safely enclosed in Andy's arms.

When I leaned back into him, he spoke up again. "Sharon, do you know any better? I mean, is this just a stomach flu that reminds you of your pregnancies, or, you know, could you actually be pregnant?"

"I could actually be pregnant."

Andy kissed my temple and ran his hand over my head in a caress. "A baby," he whispered, "a baby for us."

"This doesn't shock you one bit?" I inquired, surprised by his reaction.

"Sweetheart, I'd never even considered the possibility that we could still have children. It's never crossed my mind." The he suddenly stopped and his body grew rigid. "Damn, Sharon, I am sorry. I am so sorry. I should have asked. I just assumed that, you know … God, we should have talked about this."

"Andy, no, stop! Don't do that. I also didn't think I could… I mean … I guess I've been alone for so long, contraception was never really an issue."

"Look at us, and now we've gotten you pregnant," he chuckled but there was such tenderness in his voice.

"Quite possibly, yes."

It took another half hour of throwing up and Andy holding me before I felt ready to get up.

/

One of my best friends is actually an OB/GYN and she was certainly surprised when I called her early in the morning wanting to schedule a same day lunchtime appointment for a pregnancy check up. I could hear how she was fighting between her professional reaction as my doctor and the surprise and curiosity as my dear friend. In the end my friend won out: "Sharon, you think you are pregnant? Well, it seems like there's a lot you haven't told me about! That Andy guy?"

I smiled at her reaction and confirmed: "Yes, that Andy guy. My Andy guy." I cast an upwards look at Andy.

"And he knows?"

"I'm in his arms right now and he's excited to find out if it's really true."

"Sharon, Sharon, Sharon," I could feel her shaking her head at me. "Whatever happened to the good catholic woman whose children went to First Holy Communion with mine?"

I took a deep breath. I didn't feel like joking about this, but I knew just how to make both her and Andy laugh: "Well, maybe that lady's child will go to First Holy Communion with one of your grandchildren." I quipped and Andy didn't disappoint. He laughed and coughed with tears in his eyes, but when he started choking, I had to hit him really hard on his back and give him my best Darth Raydor glare so he would calm down.

"Woman, you are going to give me a heart attack, you are unbelievable!"

/

We came back to the office that afternoon in the knowledge that I was indeed pregnant. Coming up on my fiftieth birthday and pregnant.

As was our habit, we split in the parking garage, Andy heading up first and me following a few minutes later.

Provenza was busy giving Andy the third degree over his rather long lunch break that nicely coincided with their Captain's. And there was me, walking into the squadroom, seeing and hearing them argue, knowing I'm carrying a part of Andy with me. It suddenly felt oddly intimate to overhear Andy's conversation with Provenza.

Needless to say I did not get much work done that afternoon. I sat in my office, pretending to be engrossed in paperwork, but my mind was elsewhere. I was so preoccupied, I even forgot to turn a page every now and then for appearances' sake. I thought back to the times when I had found out I was pregnant with Emily and Ricky: Well over two decades have passed since then. All my children are grown now, even Rusty has moved to a dorm room on campus. Andy's children are grown, his step-grandchildren would be older than their aunt or uncle I was carrying. It was crazy. Looking at it with any degree of objectivity, it was crazy. But I could not find it in me to be objective: I was too giddy.

I don't know how Andy survived the afternoon. At least I was in the relative sanctity of my office hanging on to my own thoughts in private, while Provenza was harassing him and Julio looked on in a way that seemed to indicate he knew more than he let on.

I had gotten quite used to the dichotomy of intimacy at home and distance at the office and was enjoying the intensity of the first touch, the first kiss once we were alone. But nothing could have prepared me for the intensity of finally being alone with Andy that night.


	4. Holding you

We are walking hand in hand along the beach. It's something we started because Sharon couldn't really go running anymore and still wanted to exercise – and I believe she did say something about my blood pressure, too. I've been more concerned about that myself. I mean, now that I am going to be a Father, I want to be as healthy as possible for as long as possible. So walks along the beach it was.

Sharon is radiant today and quite uncharacteristically chatty. She's making plans for our life, throwing baby names into the conversation at random. Some are beautiful, others I don't think I could live with, as much as I respect her wishes. She's joking half the time, winding me up, stopping to kiss me when I get too upset. I can never tell if she is serious, but she is obviously happy with her little game and quite absorbed in it.

/

I think I knew something was up when she called me honey. When she told me about the baby, she called me honey. Sharon is not one for pet names. She calls me Andy in private and sometimes in front of the team, but it's always Lieutenant Flynn in public. So when she called me honey, I knew something was up. I thought she was sick – I had no idea she would tell me she might be pregnant.

The day itself had passed in a blur from the worry of finding her in the bathroom in the morning to the joy that followed the confirmation by her friend Naomi and the peace and wonder of a quiet lunch holding hands and smiling at each other. It had been intense throughout, but we had never once considered _not_ having our child. We embraced the news of her pregnancy wholeheartedly. We would see it through together and were looking forward to our child. Regardless of other people's opinions, irrespective of our age and propriety and that Sharon hadn't divorced Jack yet, this child she is carrying is ours. Not planned but wanted. A special gift from a God we might not fully believe in, but being Irish and Italian somehow believed in anyway.

Rusty had moved into a college dorm room not that long ago and we had really enjoyed being able to spend time without having to worry about how much physical affection we showed. I do have very fond memories of moments on her couch that would certainly have left a lasting impression on Rusty.

I didn't yet have my own key to her apartment, so she let me in, glasses gone, hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, feet bare. I remember thinking her make-up seemed a bit smudged, but not wanting to ask her about it. As I stood there, the door firmly closed and all locks in place, she gave me shy smile.

"Andy," she hesitated. Was she blushing?

"Andy. You're here." There was a hint of surprise in her voice. Had she doubted that I would come? Did she think I would leave her?

"I'm here," I confirmed "and I am here to stay." I pulled out the purple lilies I'd been hiding and held them out to her. "I'm here, my love."

I could watch how the corner of her mouth first twitched and turned into a small smile. "These are beautiful, Andy."

I reached for her, touching her shoulder, running my hand down her arm catching her hand firmly with my own. Her fingers curled around mine and her smile became more pronounced. "I'm very glad you're here, Andy."

After she had put the flowers in a vase and set them on her coffee table, I gently pulled her down into my lap enveloping her in my arms. It made me happy to feel her relax into me when she rested her head against my chest.

"What happened after you got home today?"

"Nothing really."

I wasn't buying that, so I tried a more direct approach "Sweetheart, you seemed pretty upset when I got here. Did you think I wouldn't come?"

"Jack didn't come home. He didn't come home for three nights after Emily and then he showed up drunk at four in the morning. He disappeared for a fortnight with Ricky. The memory came back when you took so long. Andy, you left the office almost four hours ago and I just, I…" her voice broke.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I went to a meeting. I didn't think…" What had I done? Our first day and I had already hurt her and reminded her of Jack!

"It's Monday," she stated quietly.

"Yeah."

"Meeting night. I knew that. You always go to meetings on Mondays."

"I should have texted you. God Sharon, I should have called. I didn't want…"

"No, I knew that. Mondays. I just…didn't think. I felt alone, Andy. Without you here, I felt so alone, so…vulnerable."

It broke my heart.

"You know that I won't leave you, that I won't desert you. You do know that, Sharon, don't you? I will promise you right here that I will always come home to you and if I can't, I'll make sure to tell you where I am and when I'll be back."

"I don't want you to feel obligated…"

"It's not an obligation," I interrupted her before she could continue. "I want to be with you."

"I want to be with you, too, Andy."

/

Holding Sharon, touching and kissing her had still been so new then. Now we are much more comfortable with each other, but that night…well, it had been more than two decades that I'd last held a woman carrying my child in my arms. I felt almost a little shy, unsure of myself.

Sharon seemed to have no such concerns as she snuggled up to me like she always did, humming contentedly when I spooned her and buried my nose in her hair. Encouraged, I ran my hand from her shoulder down her arms and intertwined my fingers with hers, squeezing them to let her know that I would be there for here, that I love her, that I am going to be by her side every single step of the way, that I can't imagine being without her, that I am so excited.

I slowly moved our joint hands so they rested over her abdomen, still flat and showing none of the promise it holds for us now. When she freed her fingers from my grip I stopped breathing afraid of what would come next. But then she put her hand back on top of mine, gently straightening and relaxing my clamped fingers. She pressed our joint hands against herself and made one of these wonderfully content little hums. It nearly brought tears to my eyes. Sharon and her hums and their ability to go straight through to my heart. She has an entire language of hums. I've heard there's this tribe in Southern Africa that communicates with click sounds. She is like that – nothing she can't express with a hum. It's just about learning to read and understand them. And that hum right there was one of those I love, one that speaks to my soul. She continued to hum quietly at my caresses.

The pressure of her hand on mine eased little by little until her hand dropped on the sheets. I kissed her bare shoulder and slipped my hand underneath her nightie. Her hum changed when I started drawing circles over her smooth skin and she turned back to capture my lips in a long sensual kiss that became more and more intense. She pushed my hand downwards, suddenly very determined. "Touch me," she whispered and let her legs fall open, stretching out languidly. It was quite possibly the most touching thing I have ever witnessed: she was so feminine, so utterly beautiful in the cream coloured silk and her tousled hair coming apart in my arms, calling my name into our kiss. I cradled her against me as her breathing slowly returned to normal and slowed down until I noticed she had fallen asleep. I love this, I love that after a day of such intensity she trusts me enough to tell me what she needs, that she feels safe to fall asleep in my arms. Holding the woman I love and our child safely in my arms, I slowly drifted off to sleep.

/

The light breeze is blowing Sharon's loosely fitting dress against her, exposing the curve of her stomach. She is almost five months along now and tomorrow we are seeing Naomi to find out if it's a girl or a boy. Maybe that's why she'd been thinking about names, but the "Archibald, Andy, wouldn't that be perfect?" she's throwing at me now is something I absolutely have to object to! So I reach out to lay my hand on her belly, stopping her in the process and turning her into my arms. She laughs merrily "Archibald is just…" Whatever she was going to say remains unuttered as I kiss her.

Within a second everything changes. Sharon is doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach, sinking to her knees with a blood-curdling scream.


	5. Blueberry

Andy told me later that I had screamed. I don't remember that. All I remember is the searing pain and the fear and the feeling of helplessness. Andy caught me and pulled me against him before I could fall. Being held by him calmed me little, but it did nothing to stop the terrible pain and the escalating worry about the baby. Andy was the one who got me to the hospital, holding my hand, whispering words of comfort to me while bullying the EMTs and hospital staff in full-on Lieutenant Flynn mode. He even managed to contact Naomi so she met us at the hospital. By then, the pain had dulled somewhat and I was able to think more clearly. Andy was frantic with worry, his face red, his hands shaking. I remember saying his name several times trying to calm him down. I failed miserably. He only relaxed a little once Naomi started the ultrasound and we heard our baby's heartbeat right away. Our eyes locked as we released a synchronised breath of relief.

"So they are both okay? Sharon and our daughter are okay? Are you sure? They are really okay?" Andy's hand in mine is sweaty and trembling. He is still on edge, ready to pounce. I can see how hard this is on him. He has been relegated to outside observer. Everyone's first concern upon arriving here had been the baby and myself. He got shoved aside. I know from my own experience that dealing with Andy when he is that upset is difficult. The hospital staff and Naomi don't know him like I do, they couldn't deal with him in that state so they focused on the more urgent tasks, pushing him away. I make a mental note to talk to him about that before the birth. I am going to need him with me. I need him to calm me and to steady me. It is difficult to reconcile the gentle Andy now with the man ordering people around earlier. But this is who he is and how he does things. He gets upset on behalf of people he cares about: victims, fellow officers, friends. This compassion is what makes him such a good officer – and more importantly such a wonderful man, lover and father. I am so grateful he was with me at the beach. I'm proud of the way he handled himself today. I was scared out of my mind, and I couldn't even say much. I needed him to take over, to be in charge, to take care of me – and he did.

/

Our baby is healthy and strong and she's a girl! Although this is not quite the way we had wanted to find out. Still, we are having a girl and Andy is over the moon and so am I. We stare at her on the screen, mesmerised, the rapid beating of her little heart filling the room.

Our daughter is healthy and strong. I however am not. Naomi tells me that I have overdone it, that I have pushed myself to hard and done too much.

"You're not in your twenties anymore, Sharon. This pregnancy is different from your other ones. You _need_ to slow down," Naomi insists.

"I thought I had. I've not worked any overtime, I've slept, I've been eating well."

"Maybe that isn't enough. I'm going to put you on medical leave for two weeks and afterwards you may go back to work part time..."

"Part time?" I interject, but Naomi holds up her hand to stop me. She isn't finished yet.

"You may go back to work part time for long enough to hand over the running of your team to your maternity cover. No more work after that until your baby is here."

"Are you serious?"

"I am. _If_ you want to carry your daughter to term, you _need_ to slow down."

"Of course I want to carry her to term!" How can she even suggest such a thing!

"I know you do. For the next two weeks, take it slow, Sharon, really slow. Bedrest slow. Do I make myself clear? Make sure you don't exert yourself, no heavy lifting, no housework, no exercising, no sex. Sleep, read, watch TV. This was a warning shot and there may not be another one."

Unexpectedly, I find my thoughts wandering. Intimacy has been such an integral part of our relationship. We have been "just friends" for so long that once we finally admitted that we yearned to be much more than that, it didn't take us long to proceed from kissing to falling asleep in each others arms.

Throughout my pregnancy we have been very close. And it's been much more mutual than on the day we found out I was pregnant. I was actually rather embarrassed about having fallen asleep on Andy and he was being so sweet about it, flattering me with his compliments. We've been rather creative with my growing belly recently, but that hasn't stopped us. It feels strange that at this age I find myself in a relationship that is every bit as physical, and in many aspects much more so, than even the early years of my marriage.

Even now with the memory of the pain still fresh, I know something is being taken from me, from us. I do for a moment worry how Andy will take this forced abstinence and immediately chastise myself for such a thought. He has been nothing but utterly devoted to me and to our child from the beginning. I remember the early weeks when he would check morning, night and every chance he got in between to see if I was already showing.

/

"There's no more denying it, monkey girl. I can see a baby bump."

I tried denial anyway, "There is no bump."

"I know a bump when I see one and this one has "our baby" written all over."

Oh Andy, you are going to make my heart melt, I thought fondly and tried logic next, "I'm barely seven weeks along, there cannot be a bump. Our baby is the size of a blueberry."

"A blueberry muffin maybe."

I shook my head laughing and tried being offended, "There is no bump, this is just the way I look, thank you!"

"Sharon, you look absolutely beautiful, beautifully pregnant."

I couldn't win this. It touched me deeply that he was so excited about our child, so eagerly looking for outward signs. I had been just about to agree with him when he started placing butterfly kisses on my stomach and tickling my sides throwing me into a fit of helpless giggles.

"Stop it, Andy! You're tickling me."

"Admit you've got a little bump and I'll stop."

I was laughing so hard by then, even if I had wanted to I wouldn't have been able to get the words out – and then he tickled me again and we both fell onto the bed in a tangle of limps and laughter. I'm sure it was loud enough for the neighbours to hear, but I didn't care. Letting loose like that felt so good, as light and carefree as I hadn't been in years.

/

"I'm going to send you home now to rest. Please call me if you have any more episodes like this morning, any cramps, contractions, any more pain." I nod my silent agreement. Andy has been quiet all throughout the exchange. He knows me so well, I realise. He has a clear opinion on the matter, probably much like Naomi's but he knows I don't like to feel cornered. I turn to look at him: the concern and shock of what happened just a few hours ago still etched on his face. My reassuring smile fails miserably. I want to go home. I want Andy. I want him to hold me and tell me we'll be okay.

/

Andy is sitting up against the headboard of our bed and I'm lying on him, my head on his chest, his hands on my belly. Our daughter is kicking and he is following her movements with his hands.

We've just come home from the hospital. It's the first real moment we have had to ourselves. We don't need words, not just yet. For now it's sufficient to be together, to hold each other in the knowledge that our little girl is well and we haven't lost her. Our caresses and kisses are calming and soothing. I like that about us. Things can get heated within a matter of minutes, a touch, a kiss, even a word inciting a brightly burning fire in me. But we can also touch like we do now. I can feel a content hum in my throat and the corresponding chuckle vibrating in Andy's chest. I am at peace because he is with me.

Before we fall asleep that night I turn around finding Andy's warm lips for another kiss. "I didn't mean to scare us like that, Andy. I want our daughter so much and I am so glad we're having her."

"Our daughter. I think I need to warn you though: I am going to be a lot more protective from now on."

It's his way of telling me he'll physically enforce the rest Naomi has prescribed. He's probably not above handcuffing me to the bed if that will help matters, I tell myself with an amused grin.

"How is it that the idea of me being protective makes you giggle?"

When I share the image of handcuffs the laughter rumbles deep in his chest. "I hadn't thought of that, what a brilliant, brilliant idea, my Captain."

"I love you, Andy."

"I love you, too, both of you." And then, as an afterthought: "My girls."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Thank you all so much for the reviews for my last chapter! Sorry about the cliffhanger there, but I didn't want us all, me included, dying of cuteness :-)<strong>

**As you can see, both Sharon and their daughter are okay - and I promise you there's more feels and fluff to come in future chapters! **

**Thank you for reading and reviewing - I really like to hear what you think of my writing!**


	6. Four times

Waking up with Sharon in my arms is always so peaceful but it's different today. There is an uneasiness inside of me, a quiet alarm. We fell asleep last night facing each other, her head buried in my chest, my nose in her hair. It's a nice change to be able to look at her face in the morning and today I need to be able to do just that. I need to see her, I need to see that she isn't in pain, that her are features calm, that there is no sign of yesterday's anguish in them. I tentatively run my hand over her belly, careful not to wake her. Her muscles are soft now with none of the tautness Naomi told us to look for as a warning sign. I breathe out a sigh of relief. Everything about her is so soft and motherly this morning. Our little girl is still asleep, just like her mum. Assured in the knowledge that they are well for now, and somewhat calmer, I let my eyes fall closed.

The second time I wake is to Sharon's hand dancing over my back and her lips on my chin. "Good morning," she whispers. I groan in response and her hand comes up to my hair to run her fingers through it making me melt into her touch. When she kisses me, I pull her a little closer, mindful not to exert any pressure on her belly.

"So I guess Archibald is out of the question. We have to find a new name for our daughter."

"Sweetheart…" I'm not yet quite awake enough to do more than return her kiss and mumble a few more words of endearment. She continues running her fingers over my scalp with slowly increasing intensity, dropping little kisses on my face with a low hum. Since the morning sickness subsided, weekend mornings with her have been very special. We have always enjoyed the mornings together and as the nausea has receded so have we reclaimed the mornings as our time to stay in bed and make love, drift in and out of sleep, talk and kiss and touch.

The third time I wake up to, or I'd like to think from, our daughter's happy kicks against my hand. My heartbeat seems to pick up a little bit and the moment I start responding to her with the softest of caresses, Sharon moves to look at me with her beautiful emerald eyes that see right to the bottom of my soul. Underneath her unwavering, caring gaze, a knot begins to form in my stomach, slowly rising up through my chest, morphing into an unfamiliar burning sensation behind my eyelids. I feel like I am suffocating.

I can't remember the last time I felt such intense fear. I am not talking about the fear when I hunt down a suspect or put myself in the line of fire. That is my job and it is what I do. But fearing for someone else's life, the life of someone so dear to me, that has been a long time. Maybe it was when Nicole was still small. She hit her head against a stone when she fell once. It must have been when she was only just learning to walk. She had been unconscious and was bleeding profusely from a nasty gash to her temple. She was still so small then – I could literally pick her up in my arms and rush her to the nearest emergency room. I scooped her up, deposited her into Joanne's arms and - using the horns and lights of my car - took her to Cedar's. I even used my radio to call ahead. During the trip Nicole had started screaming. A welcome sign despite my little girl's anguish, because it meant she had regained consciousness.

Yesterday had been different. Hearing Sharon scream, seeing the mask of pain on her face, the way she bent over and held her stomach. It was so glaringly obvious that something was so very wrong, and all I wanted was for the pain to leave her, for her and our baby to be okay. We were down at the shoreline and had walked quite far. There was no one else around and I knew I couldn't accomplish the trek up to the road through the sand with her in my arms. I didn't want to risk hurting her and the baby even more by falling. Sharon was in my lap, shivering and whimpering, tears running down her face and I could tell she was beginning to panic, saying my name and looking at me. I pulled out my phone to call the ambulance and the lifeguard while holding her against me, trying to steady my voice and to project a calm and reassurance for her that I didn't feel.

My wonderful Sharon leans in to tenderly kiss the tears away from my face and pulls my head against her chest as my tears turn into noisy sobs. "You were there, my love, you took care of me and of our daughter. You looked after us, Andy." She understands without the need for a single word from my side. I lay there, bedded softly against her breasts, only inches away from our child, lulled by the sound of Sharon's heartbeat, the soft rise and fall of her chest, surrounded by her familiar scent. With every stroke of her hand over my back, with every kiss placed lovingly on my head I can feel yesterday's tension leaving me until all that remains is a deep peace.

When I wake up for the fourth time that morning I find myself still happily nestled between her soft breasts. I press a chaste kiss against her breast and hear her chuckle. „I know you can do better than that, Andy!"

„Uh, no, I am being a good boy. Doctor's orders." I take a deep breath inhaling her intoxicating scent, there is a hint of her flowery perfume still, but after a night's sleep it's mostly just her. Just one more kiss and another moment resting so close to her, one more kiss, before I remember my earlier intention of being a good boy and look up at her smiling face, "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Good morning yourself. Ready for a new day?"

Judging from the expression on her face she is really only that ready because our daughter is pressing on her bladder and she's needing to pee, but I don't think it's very gentlemanly to point that out so I concur, "If you're in my day, I'm always ready."

She laughs at my unintended double entendre and gets up making a beeline for the bathroom. Case in point I think to myself and roll over to her place on the bed where her warmth and scent still linger. What a lucky man I am.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: I did promise some fluff and cuteness, didn't I? Let me know if it worked for you!<strong>


	7. Lime

The first days I mostly slept, alternating between our bedroom, the couch and eventually, when the former seemed too lonely without Andy and the latter gave me a backache, Rusty's room. I haven't started calling it the spare room again, I'm not quite ready for that yet. Besides, it's going to be our daughter's room soon enough.

Rusty has only moved out recently and much like after Ricky first left, traces of him still remain. A chess poster on the wall, a t-shirt crumbled up under the bed I've never removed. I would only be kidding myself if I said it was because I hadn't noticed it up to now. While he was the only one of the three who was in any way reluctant to move away from me, I had still struggled to hold back the tears when we left him at the dorm room. Later, when the tears had come, Andy had pulled me against him joking that I was such a mother hen. Little did we know that would soon be expecting a child. To his credit, when I started crying after the mother hen joke he apologised and he spend the rest of the evening cheering me up and taking care of me – and the memory _still _makes me blush a little. Rusty visits regularly, always full of stories, eyes sparkling and a perpetually hungry stomach. My boy is growing up. I do know he likes Andy's cooking better than mine because the incessant requests for burgers and pizza have stopped, instead he follows Andy around my kitchen observing him. I am content to be in the background watching them act like father and son.

I hadn't realised how exhausted I really was. I'm sure it's not just the pregnancy, but also the toll three years of running Major Crimes, raising a teenager and living through the Weller nightmare have taken on me. As Naomi said, I am no longer twenty and maybe she was right that working full time in a high intensity job really was too much for a pregnant not quite fifty-year-old.

It's a relief to know my team is in good hands with Lieutenant Provenza. All I really needed to do on my first day at home was to formally put the Lieutenant in charge. Knowing things at work are running smoothly gives me the peace to just concentrate on myself and the new life growing inside of me and I am so grateful I didn't leave the planning of my maternity leave to the last minute. I had the conversation with Taylor early on and cajoled, Andy would say blackmailed him into approving an additional team member so as not to leave Major Crimes understaffed. Then I also arranged for the Lieutenant to be supported by a full-time administrator. I do know his aversion to paperwork and one thing I do not want upon my return is a complete mess. It was bad enough cleaning up after him when I first took over the division. Andy had laughed at that and told me I was making it too easy for Provenza. I do wonder how he'll feel about that when the new team member arrives.

It's a very slow, very confined life I am leading these days and I'm surprised how much I appreciate the calm and quiet of my days. I had thought that I would go stir crazy, but there is no sign of that yet. My abdomen still tenses at the slightest exertion and when I move I do so slowly, stopping to see what will happen. But my legs aren't so swollen anymore. I'm glad Andy hasn't broken our little routine and when lifts my feet into his lap at the end of the day and his strong hands start kneading my feet and legs it feels just as wonderful.

I've rediscovered my balcony and often sit out there wrapped in a thick blanket enjoying the views it offers during the day. I look out over the park and watch the city from above. My mobile is always at my side because Andy texts throughout the day. Never anything about their cases, but titbits of team gossip and Provenza's antics, words of love and affection, inquiring about me and the cranberry. The familiar chirping sound has become my little connection to the outside world eleven floors below.

/

It was one of those December weekends leading up to Christmas. I do love Christmas and I knew from experience my pregnancy would only intensify my well-developed (although all my children have collectively and individually referred to it as obsessive) love of Christmas decorations and angels. I was sitting quietly in Rusty's room sorting through a box of small angel figurines when I heard Andy's voice from the hall.

"Monkey girl, will you and the little cranberry please get here and tell me what the hell is going on?"

I remember getting up a bit flustered, because I couldn't pick out his mood. The use of our nicknames suggested humorous, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice that belied the light tone. I went with humorous: "Cranberry? Is that how you're calling our little one now?"

"You tell me, monkey girl. You always seem to know what fruit or veg to compare our baby to. What is it this week? Surely not a blueberry anymore?"

"I love your fixation on cranberries, honey," I said and kissed him to which he responded in kind.

"No, but seriously, what fruit have we graduated to by now?"

I laughed, "A lime."

His features became soft has he gently laid his hands on my stomach. "What have you and the little lime been up to while I was gone?" he said pointing to the tree with his chin.

"Nothing much, I sorted through the boxes with Christmas things, hung up some ornaments."

"Some ornaments?" he questioned, pointing at the tree with one hand now. "What's that then?"

"A tree?"

"No, it was _a_ tree when I left here a few hours ago. Now, it's a _fully decorated_ tree."

"Don't you like it? I thought we agreed you would put up the tree and I could choose the ornaments."

"Choose, Sharon, _choose_ the ornaments. Not climb on a freaking ladder and put them up there! While I was gone!" His hands moved from my stomach to my upper arms, grabbing them. "Please don't do that! I won't be able to leave you alone if I know you'll be climbing up ladders and putting angels on top of Christmas trees." He really sounded upset now.

"Well, we won't have to worry about that anymore, now will we? Because Gabriel is up there now." I said petulantly and put my hands on my hips trying to pull my arms from his grip in the process. He held on tight.

"Stop being so fucking glib about this, Sharon! You could have fallen! You could have gotten hurt. You're pregnant, start acting like it!"

"I'm not even twelve weeks along, it's not like I have a belly affecting my sense of balance. I've been decorating my tree every year and I have never fallen, not once, not even when I was heavily pregnant. I'm pregnant, Andy, not sick!" Stupid protectiveness, what on earth had gotten into that man?

"But what if you had fallen? And pregnant or not, you shouldn't be climbing on ladders when you're all alone!"

"Have you forgotten I've lived alone for the better part of the last decade? Good grief, Andy. Your protective streak is adorable, but this is going to far." I stepped back and this time he let go of my arms, using his hands to gesticulate instead.

"It's not my protective streak. I simply don't want my pregnant girlfriend climbing up ladders while I am not around. Hell, I don't want you climbing up any ladders at all. That's a man's job, that's _my_ job."

I almost lost it at that. A man's job? Had he really said that? To me, of all people? "That is beyond ridiculous, Andy! I have run a household by myself for nearly thirty years. I can climb a ladder and use an electric drill, I can fix a blocked drain and _I_ am going to decorate _my _Christmas tree and if you want this relationship to work, you had better get used to it – right now!" I took a deep breath and I think I might have actually stomped my foot on the ground with those last words. I was livid! This was like having a teenager in my house all over again, no, it was worse!

Andy turned around, picked up the small stepladder, looked me right in the eye and challenged me. "I am going to take this with me, and you had better not use a chair instead, woman!" The door behind him closed with a resounding thud. That hadn't happened since Rusty and I had fought about him moving off my couch into "his" room three years ago.

Andy had come back – without the ladder – a few minutes later. I had still been standing in the spot he left me in trying to figure out how we would move on from here. When I saw him I smiled and tentatively opened my arms to him. He mirrored my gesture and we simply walked into each other's arms and held on tight.

"I'm sorry I made you worry about me, Andy. You know I would never do anything to compromise the safety of our baby."

"I know you wouldn't, sweetheart," he said and gently kissed me. "But just because you can do everything by yourself doesn't mean you also have to do it alone. Not anymore. I'm here now, Sharon, I'm here for you. There's two of us now, we can do things together. Let me at least be there to hold you if you absolutely have to decorate your Christmas tree. Can you promise me that?"

I smiled, "I absolutely have to – and yes, I promise you no more climbing without you by my side."

"I should have thought of a better nickname than monkey girl, shouldn't I?"

"You should have."

"And your Christmas tree angel, he's really called Gabriel?"

"He is."

"I love you, my little Christmas decorator."

Thus our first fight ended. It had been sudden and rather unexpected, but I think we handled it well. I looked for my stepladder for a while and only when I overheard one of Provenza's jokes did I learn that Andy had been keeping it in the trunk of his car. As far as I know, it's still there.

/

I am a police officer with decades on the force and several commendations for my marksmanship. I have raised my two older children by myself. I took in a lost, angry boy and three years later I sent him off to college as my son. I know how to take care of myself, and I know how to take care of others, I know how to nurture and to make others feel safe and cared for. I am a Captain in the LAPD, the first woman ever to achieve that rank and I was the highest-ranking woman on the force for a long time. I have laid the ground for others who followed in my wake. What I am not is a woman in need of protection. I do not need a man to fight my battles for me.

Andy is protectiveness personified. It seems to come so naturally to him. Being protective is what he does; it is in his DNA. I can see it when he interacts with victims, particularly with children and women. The closer someone is to his heart, the more pronounced it becomes. He, my nemesis in my IA days – although he would forcefully disagree and say that I was _his_ nemesis – would constantly get in trouble. I have lost count of how many times he ended up on the other side of my desk to have his actions screened. I thought he was just spoiling for a fight. I never realised how often he was protecting a weaker party or acting on a perceived injustice. Obviously, there were plenty of anger management issues and a general penchant for adversity, too - and while sobriety has certainly changed and age has played its part in mellowing him, I now understand many of his actions back then much better.

Independent as I may be, over the course of the past months in particular, I have learned to lean back into Andy's protectiveness like I lean back into his broad chest. It is my safety net, solid ground for me to stand on. It started on the job: I knew Lieutenant Flynn had my back before anyone else on the team, he was the first to defend me in front of Taylor and Provenza, and still is the first, along with Julio, to pounce when a suspect attacks me. Now, in our life together, it's all the small seemingly insignificant things like matching his steps to mine, his hand at the small of my back, pretending to be tired and needing a sit-down when he sees me struggling, always putting his body between me and traffic or me and the cold winter winds, steadying me when my steps falter, catching me when I fall. I am surprised at how easily I can now relinquish control to him.

Sometimes of course he overdoes it, like that day when I decorated our tree. At least that was the way I felt then. Now that I, that we, have come so close to loosing our daughter, I empathise with him and his concerns. What if I _had_ fallen? Why hadn't I waited for him to come back? There had been no need to decorate the tree while he was gone. I had not done it with bad intentions, I had just done it without thinking much. What if I had fallen and hurt our daughter all because it hadn't occurred to me to wait for him and to do this together?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Thank you all so much for your reviews. This is my first ever multi chapter story and knowing you are out there reading and enjoying this is really giving me a boost. I hope you enjoyed this somewhat early #ShandySundayHiatus offering!<strong>


	8. I will provide

"Good morning, sweetheart." I greet her on the day she's scheduled to go in and do the official handover to Provenza. She is even more beautiful this early in the morning, still slightly disoriented and smiling softly, her hair all over the place. I can't resist running my fingers through it, eliciting a little moan from her as I'm starting to gently massage her scalp. She looks at me through half-closed eyes yawning, "Morning, Andy, what time is it?"

"Time for the working folk to get up and face their day." I whisper, but she doesn't dignify that with a response.

She stretches her arms over her head making her t-shirt ride up and expose her rounded stomach. "I never thought I would say this, but it's certainly been nice being able to sleep in."

"Just a few days, my love, and you can go back to being a kept woman."

Her green eyes open wide and she stares at me, arms still stretched out. I know she's aiming for the Darth Raydor glare, but my fingers dancing over her naked belly distract her and she gives me an indulgent smile instead. "Andy, you promised me…"

/

Becoming a couple, finding out we were expecting a child, moving in with Sharon had all happened so quickly that we had skipped a few conversations I would have liked to have had. One in particular that had been less important while we were both still working, but that was weighing heavily on my mind now that she was on maternity leave. To my shame I have to admit I didn't know much about maternity leave and statutory pay, but surely with Sharon having to stop working so early on in her pregnancy, it would have to mean a considerable reduction in pay. I didn't know if, financially speaking, she actually needed it, but I wanted I to tell her that I would provide for her and our daughter, that I wanted to take to look after them.

So one evening last week after dinner I told her that I wanted to discuss an important issue and she smiled, a bit hesitantly and started blushing before she even started speaking.

"I also have an important issue to discuss. It's to do with my early maternity leave and…", she made a movement with her hand indicating the two of us, "certain restrictions we suddenly find ourselves under." She hid her face with her hands, "I feel like a teenager, Andy. I'm carrying your child, it shouldn't be so difficult to talk about making love with you."

My fearless Captain who can silence a room full of officers with nothing but a glare and a quirk of her eyebrow can't seem to talk about sex without turning into a teenager. I reached over the table to run my hand down her cheek and then cupped her jaw bringing her face up so I could see her eyes. "Sweetheart, would it help if I start with my point and we'll talk about yours later, maybe not over the table but when I can hold you in my arms?" She nodded forcefully and gave me a whispered thank you. Sharon at her cutest – and she didn't have the faintest idea just how cute she was.

"I know that the LAPD gives maternity leave, but I have no idea for how long that is." I could tell that she was a bit surprised by my sudden change of topic, but this was safe territory for her: "It's four months maternity leave from the LAPD and in my case an extra eight weeks of leave granted by the state of California."

"How do you know these things?"

"I was head of the committee that spearheaded the legislation on maternity leave for LAPD officers."

"Of course you were."

"I just never thought it would ever apply to me," she said thoughtfully, "why your sudden interest in maternity leave?"

"I hear it's not full pay though?"

"No, it's a percentage with a cut-off at, well, the amounts would have changed since then. I don't actually know the current rates." She explained looking at me quizzically.

I took a deep breath, now or never, "I know we've never talked about money, but I think now is the time we should. I want you to know that I provide for you and for our daughter until you are ready to go back to work, and also if you don't want to go back to work. I will look after you" I figured that had come out better than I thought, but I quickly realised that I had misjudged her reaction. I had clearly hit on a sore spot. Her whole stance became defensive where she had previously been curious, her back straightened, her eyes fixed me with a glare.

"You think just because I'm on maternity leave I won't be able to provide for myself and my children? Do you forget I have done this before - and on an officer's salary at that? I am perfectly capable to look after my family!"

She paused just look enough to take a deep breath before continuing, "And then you have the audacity to tell me that I am not supposed to go back to my work? Really, Andrew? What time and age do you think we are living in?"

This was going all wrong, this was not at all how I had planned this conversation to go.

She was clearly furious now, "And who do you think you are talking to? One of these women you and Provenza like to pick up?" she huffed and her posture slumped as her hands came to rest protectively on her stomach.

"God, Andy, how can you even think like that?"

The terror was instant, I froze, down to my core. The baby! That gesture. Something must be wrong with our baby.

It must have shown on my face, because she spit out a harsh "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Then, suddenly, understanding dawned on her face as she followed my gaze to her hands. "It's okay, Andy," her voice changed almost immediately and took on a soothing tone, "Nothing is wrong with the baby. I'm fine, we're both fine."

It took me a moment to understand and I sighed in relief. "Oh Sharon, you scared me there for a moment."

"Our daughter is fine, Andy."

I nodded, composing myself. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this over the table like we were adversaries," I suggested and got up to come around to her side. I positioned myself behind her my hands coming to rest on her shoulders. She was so tense, but she didn't push me away. Next I bent down and slipped my arms around her, resting my head on top of hers. With relief I noticed that she actually relaxed and leaned into my embrace.

"Would you like to go over to the couch with me?"

I wanted to pull her into my lap, but she shook her head and sat down next to me keeping a distance between us, so I tentatively put my hand on her knee. She cocked her head and eyed it like some strange insect.

She hadn't run off, and she seemed to be willing to at least listen to me. I had to get this right, I had to get her to understand that I didn't mean to take away her independence. All I wanted was to tell her that I would be there for her. Heavens, isn't that what a man is supposed to do for his family?

"Sweetheart, I don't know anything about your financial situation," I started carefully and quickly added, "and I don't want to know if that makes you in any way uncomfortable. But what I do know is that you've just send Rusty off to college with a few more years to go, that your divorce isn't through yet and that your maternity leave payments will probably only last until our girl is two months old. And I know that you are carrying my child, our child. I didn't intend to suggest that you wouldn't be able to provide for her. What I am telling you is that you do not _have_ to do this alone. I am telling you that I am here, by your side. I am going to contribute my share to our family, emotionally and financially. I don't want to keep you at home, sweetheart. I want to support you in the choice you make. But most of all I just want to be with you and raise our daughter together." I took a deep breath, hoping she would understand.

She sat completely still and there was no emotion, no movement at all on her face. She just sat there and it looked she was turning over in her mind what I had just said. It was unsettling. It was unnerving.

Then, after what seemed like forever but wouldn't have been more than a few minutes, she finally turned to face me. "I do understand you, Andy and I want very much the same things." She faltered, then continued, "I struggle to accept help. I'm not used to someone being at my side. I'm not used to depending on someone." A small smile was beginning to form on her face "Just … don't stop being there for me, even if I turn you down."

"I won't stop, sweetheart. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to stop wanting to be look after my girls." She nodded in response and I continued, "Can you try not to push me back quite so violently if I do overdo it?"

"I will try, Andy … and … maybe can you try not to be quite so … overbearing?"

We looked at each other determining if this could be our understanding. Her hand found it's way onto mine still resting on her knee, motioning me to turn it so our fingers could intertwine. She smiled fully then and leaned back into the couch with an exhausted sigh.

With Sharon being so fiercely independent, so strong and determined to be able to do it alone and having spent a lifetime doing everything by herself - and me wanting to look after her and our girl with equal fierceness, a confrontation of this kind was bound to happen. I'm even a little surprised it hasn't come to this before, but I remember how in the early days of her pregnancy I was able to hold back. I clearly recall moments when I wanted to say something and didn't because I knew how much she valued her independence and I knew I was probably overreacting. I don't seem to be able to do that anymore. It's like something inside of me broke when I watched her collapse at the beach, a barrier that is now gone.

/

We didn't get back to her point until we were in bed and she was snuggled into my side, her head on my shoulder, my fingers playing with her hair. The bedroom was dark except for the light of the moon filtering in through the curtains. It wasn't even that late yet, but with Sharon on bed rest there was no need for us to squeeze onto the couch when we would be so much more comfortable here.

We had sat on the sofa in silence, holding hands as the minutes ticked by – until she lifted herself up with a small groan. She came to stand right in front of me, putting both my hands on her stomach: Our daughter had woken up.

We didn't let go after that, looking for physical contact even more than we normally do, touching, holding hands. We both didn't say much.

She had grown so quiet that I thought she might have fallen asleep. She had told me she'd been sleeping most of the day and she had been out cold when I came home. I knew because I had sat there for close to an hour watching her, and I would have sat there all night if she hadn't woken up. I should have noticed earlier how exhausted she was. If she was sleeping so much now, she must have been terribly run down. How could I not have noticed? Then I remembered that she had wanted to talk to me about Naomi's no sex rule.

I want Sharon, of course I do. But first of all, I want her and our daughter to be well. I don't even know how much longer we could have continued our acrobatics with her growing belly, but I do know that our sex life is important to her – and it is to me.

I've often wondered what sort of lover Jack was. I find her so responsive to the smallest of touches and the gentlest of caresses, and it's easy for me to read her. I don't mean in general, and I certainly don't mean to brag, but when she is just Sharon, when she is in my arms and has let her guard down completely, she is like an open book. The difference to the Captain and even to the Sharon who had been sitting next to me on the sofa mere hours before couldn't be more pronounced. It's all in her wonderfully expressive face and her little hums and sounds. I like that because I know when she gets uncomfortable, and when she likes something - and I think she does sort of appreciate not having to spell everything out for me in too much detail. It's an unspoken understanding. Rare, I've never experienced anything quite like it.

I don't know how Jack treated her. He called me once, before Sharon and I had even become lovers. He had been drunk pretending to warn his former drinking buddy to stay away from his wife because she could turn even boiling water to ice. There is nothing cold about the Sharon I'm holding now – except maybe sometimes her feet.

I moved my hand from her scalp to her neck, slipping it under the curtain of her hair and she started humming.

"You're still awake, sweetheart?" I got a nod in response and her hand on my chest patted me once or twice.

"What Naomi said, does that bother you?" There was no need to be explicit; she would know what I was talking about. She leaned into my touch and then lifted her head to softly kiss me.

"It does, yeah," she admitted freely, surprising me a little. "Right now, I feel so fragile and tender - and I'm getting so heavy. But I can't help the feeling that we are loosing something, a way to connect. I'll miss that, Andy, that connection. And then there's you, and you're certainly not pregnant and you're not fragile."

"There are a lot of ways to connect, sweetheart, and many ways to be loving and tender with each other – without intercourse and without the danger of putting you into premature labour." She was looking at me earnestly. "We have so many ways to be together, and many more we can discover," I added with a wink - which she probably couldn't see in the darkened room. Her smile however was clearly visible to me. "I'd like that, Andy, very much. But what I am concerned about are_ your_ needs."

What can I say? I am no longer a young man, I can pace myself and I can wait. More importantly, I can hold her and cherish her. As I explained, she smiled again and stated matter-of-factly. "Guess that was not a conversation you thought you'd be having again at your age."

Oh Sharon. I guess I wasn't quite right earlier when I said she is uncomfortable talking about sex. It's just not her favourite topic of conversation outside of a bedroom.

"Probably not, sweetheart, but if that's what you needed to hear, I'll have it again every day."

/

Her green eyes are dancing and full of mirth as she trusts her handbag at me and links her arm through mine with a cheerful "Come on Lieutenant". She makes no move to go to her own car informing me that I am to drive her to work today and when I hold the passenger side door wide open and offer her my arm, she takes it gracefully lowering herself into the seat – and then she suddenly has my tie in her hand, pulling me towards her. At first I think she wants to kiss me, but she bites down on my lip with a chuckle,

"I think I could get used to this kept woman thing. Now, would you please drive? I can't be late, I have an appointment with my hairdresser in the afternoon."


	9. Solid Ground

Last night we had a small earthquake. I slept through the tremors of the earth and the moving ground, but when Andy started shaking, I woke up. His breath came in laboured puffs against my neck and his hand on my belly was trembling. I turned around and pulled him against me, but I still had to say his name a few times before he responded and haltingly told me what had him in such a state. My Andy, who goes into every situation head first and is never concerned about himself lay here trembling because he felt powerless when it came to protecting his wife and daughter from the primal threat of an earthquake.

We are both still on edge and even though I've had another exam and an ultrasound before I going to work for the handover, there is an underlying worry and insecurity every time something out of the ordinary happens. On top of that, my sweet Andy felt guilty for waking me so I quickly made up a little white lie about needing the bathroom. It's true enough most of the time these days and I think he bought it.

We stayed awake for a while, facing each other in the semi-darkness, the sounds of the city hardly reaching us here but for the occasional siren of an emergency vehicle. I took in Andy's features, the stubble on his chin, his soft lips, the warm brown eyes I like to loose myself in as he rested his warm hands protectively over our little daughter, still sleeping peacefully. When I reached out to run my fingers through his hair and pull him close, he came willingly and settled himself against my breasts. I tentatively began to sing a children's song I had calmed Emily and Ricky with when they were sick and found it worked just as well for my big boy when he got overwhelmed and scared. I could finally feel him relax against me.

/

Did I just refer to myself as Andy's wife? Well, I am jumping ahead here. Of course, I am not really Andy's wife, but at least as of earlier this afternoon, I am no longer Jack's wife either! Gavin called me the moment he came out of court. It's done. I am divorced. No spousal support, no sharing of my pension or savings. I am free at last – and for the first time in a long time I am just me, Sharon Raydor, mother of three and expecting a fourth. Jack is finally out of my life.

I do see the irony of keeping his name, but I've been Sharon Raydor for so long at this point that I barely remember the young Sharon Elisabeth Fitzpatrick, a somewhat naïve girl with so many plans and hopes and dreams. I am no longer naïve, but my hopes and dreams are just as alive – and I have finally found someone who shares them with me.

Besides, Darth Fitzpatrick doesn't really have a good ring to it - and what would they call me at work?

Sharon Fitzpatrick had been so ready to trust; she jumped in head first into that whirlwind romance with Jack and not long after becoming Sharon Raydor, her trust had been broken, she had been disappointed over and over again, and had learned to rely on no one but herself. But Andy isn't Jack, I tell myself. I do know that my history with Jack is making it so difficult to accept Andy's thoughtful support and offers of help. I do know that Andy will not just disappear suddenly leaving behind nothing but a letter and shattered dreams, I do know that.

With a smile I pour myself a celebratory cranberry soda and step out onto the balcony. All the thoughts about Jack aside, I feel wonderful today, strong and full of energy and it's been a long time that I felt like that. Maybe I can convince Andy to go for a walk when he gets back later, I tell myself. We have gone on one short walk the previous weekend, but Andy had refused to walk down to the shoreline. We stayed on the boardwalk - where an ambulance can easily reach us, he said. We didn't go too far - so there would still be people nearby to help, he insisted. Those were Andy's conditions and I understand him. The intense pain and panic of the moment have gone, but the memory remains lurking treacherously underneath the calm surface.

As soon as Andy is home I tell him about the divorce. He asks me if I want to celebrate or do something to mark the occasion. The truth is, I don't. I am glad it is over. I have grieved and moved on. Nothing tells me that more than _Andy's_ daughter growing in my womb. All I really want is to be with him. I want his hands on my belly calming our little girl, his kisses on my neck and his voice in my ear. I also don't feel much like going out anymore. He is here now, and we're together and who needs a walk on the beach when I can snuggle up with him?

/

After dinner we're in bed and I am finally cuddled up in his arms, skin on skin, my back flush against his chest, relaxing and concentrating on the feeling of his fingers in my hair.

"Sharon? Sweetheart, can you turn around and look at me for a moment?"

I gladly oblige, turning on my back to look into his eyes, "What is it?"

I can tell that he wants to say something, but isn't quite ready for it yet. He is still fighting with himself, shaking his head, making another effort to talk, stopping again. He is quite adorable when he is so obviously flustered, but I can see this time that he isn't really flustered, this is something big and important and he is trying to find the right words. My heart opens up to him as I realise what is about to happen and I smile at him happily, cupping his cheek with my hand.

"Andy," I say and my voice falters from all the emotion. He smiles back at me, leaning into my hand and looking at me like I'm the only woman on this whole wide word, looking at me in such a loving way, it just makes me feel even more special. He starts with my eyes, leaning down to kiss me on the forehead, his fingers trailing along my jaw, another kiss placed softly on my lips, his fingers sliding further down my neck to my collarbone.

"Oh, Andy," I sigh. He is incredibly tender and I hear myself hum in contentment. At the sound he lifts his face to look at me for a moment and smile again. His hands are roaming down my body now, over my breast and my rounded stomach and then he's lifting up my shirt, talking to our little girl – and for the first time she reacts to his voice and gives a strong kick. I imagine she is listening to her father's voice, letting him know she hears him.

With another hum, I stretch out happily, closing my eyes and enjoying the moment with him. He has always been so attentive, so attuned to my needs, tender and caring and has become even more so as my pregnancy progressed. But tonight it is all magnified. He is kissing my belly, caressing it with his fingers so softly I can barely notice his touch and yet it's there. I bury my fingers in his hair and sigh. This feels wonderful, it's pure bliss, the feeling of his lips against my stomach, the movements of our daughter inside of me, his voice, his warm hands and tantalising breath against my skin.

We've found our rhythm again, I realise. After my initial hesitation, we are just as comfortable as we used to be. He makes me feel so special, so beautiful and completely desirable with his gentle touches, without making me go crazy. We still can't make love for fear of sparking off premature labour, but we can hold and caress each other – and that is more than enough for me right now.

I can't wait for the moment I'll be putting our newborn daughter into his arms, I can't wait for the way he'll look at me, I can't wait to tell him that he is a Father once more.

"Sharon?" I hear his voice and the way he pronounces my name makes me feel special and tingly all at once.

"I am not sure if you are ready. But whenever you are, I want you to know that I am."

My heart stops and then beats so quickly, I'm sure I would feel dizzy if I wasn't lying down.

"I am."

His hands continue the ministrations of my stomach while he moves up to kiss me lightly. "I want the three of us to be a family. I want to be with you. Sharon, will you marry me?"

There is no hesitation, no second thought, there is but one answer I can give – and I give it with all the enthusiasm I have, "Yes! Yes, I will, of course I will, Andy!"

It's perfect, a perfect moment. No music, flowers, fancy rings or dinners, just us. The moment is pure in its simplicity. I'm in the arms of the man I love, his child growing in me and I know I'll be with him – forever.

After Andy has overcome a moment of actually being surprised by my response we hold each other in quiet happiness. My heart goes out to him. Even though I told him I was ready, he still didn't take my yes for granted. Of course, I don't want him to take me for granted, but I do want him to be sure of my love. I want him to know that the love I have for him leaves no room for doubt, none whatsoever.

"Andy?" I whisper quietly and feel him stir a little in response.

"How's my girl?"

I can't help giggling even as I'm correcting him: "Your fiancée, Andy. I'm no longer your girl, I'm your fiancée and very soon I'll be your wife."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Before you'll have the little one?"

"Absolutely before. I am making you walk you down to city hall tomorrow to set the date."

"You're not wasting any time, are you?"

"Did you really think I was going to let you off the hook now that you asked? I can't risk you changing your mind."

He is laughing now and I can feel the laughter reverberate through his body. I don't know how we've gotten so silly all of a sudden, but I like the light mood.

"I mean, look at my belly. No chickening out now, Andrew Flynn. I am claiming you as mine – and I am going to hold on to you for the rest of my life!" I proclaim and it's maybe just a little over the top, but it is worth the look in his eyes and the smile all over his face.

/

Tonight, it is Andy who speaks up just before we fall asleep.

„I think probably told you as much when I asked you to become my wife, but there is no place I'd rather be, no one I'd rather be with. I might get frightened at times, and I might get overprotective, but I love you, Sharon, and I love our daughter, more than I could ever say."


	10. Pomegranate

Today is her last day at work before the real maternity leave begins. Her last _half _day, I should say, because Sharon has been incredibly good about staying at the office for a few hours only asking me to drop her home before pushing herself too far. Still, she regularly dozed off in the car and I had to wake her on getting home.

I like those moments. When she wakes up in the mornings I don't usually get to see her face. Most nights she sleeps in my arms, her back snug against my chest, my face buried deeply into her hair, my hand resting softly on her belly – or really on her hip most of these days because she has complained it gets to heavy once I sleep. When she wakes up in the car I can look into her face and wait for the moment of recognition when she opens her eyes and sees me, really sees me. It never fails to make my heart beat faster. There is so much love in her gaze, so much trust. I can't believe I am so loved.

Today she wakes up and turns around snuggling into me. I hear a muffled sound coming from somewhere near my chest, "I don't want to get up."

"So that's the deal? I ask you to marry me and you stop working and just stay in bed?" I quip and I can feel rather than hear her laughter.

"You're the one who asked, I just did what was expected of me."

"So you're telling me all the wooing wasn't really necessary? I could have saved myself the trouble and just outright asked you and you would have said yes?"

"Why not? I mean, look at me, I'm getting a pretty good deal here. I get to sleep in and look pretty and you can go out into the big wide world and come home telling me about all our adventures in policing the city."

"You are crazy."

"Be careful, if I wasn't I might not have said yes."

Later while I'm making breakfast she is walking about aimlessly, fiddling with her hands, looking for the non-existent pockets on her maternity dress, rubbing her stomach, and making uncoordinated little humming sounds. She used to sit, her hand on her stomach, and talk quietly our baby, but recently she has started to hum instead of whisper. It's a very new sound in her already impressive array of hums and one only reserved for our daughter. But this is not it. Something about her is off. I watch her for a while before I stop her wandering with my arms, sneaking them loosely around her.

"What's going on with you, sweetheart?"

"I don't feel well."

I can feel myself grow tense immediately pulling her into a closer embrace.

"Oh Andy," she chastises me gently. "You are always ready to come to my rescue. I'm just drained, but there is nothing wrong with our daughter, no pain, no cramps or anything like that. Please don't look so scared. I just really don't feel up to going into work today." Her head comes to rest against my chest and she sighs. "It's no use, I am going to call the Lieutenant and ask him to do the debriefing here and then he can join you guys later and introduce the new officer."

"Let me call him right now so he doesn't have to go to the office and come straight here."

"I will call him, Andy. Why don't you fix breakfast for us and we can start the day with some good food. I'm sure that'll be the best incentive for your partner to get here."

I watch her make the phone call and then go to lie down on the couch. With only her feet visible from where I'm standing she starts talking to me about the colour of the nursery we'd been looking at online yesterday and patterns for curtains. It's those little moments of domesticity I might actually cherish most about our relationship, how easily we have settled into living together and sharing our lives, not just the bed. We meet here at our home at the end of a workday and we're us, Andy and Sharon, no longer Captain and Lieutenant, two middle aged people with five children between them and a sixth on the way.

/

"Andy? Andy, are you home? Andy?" Her voice sounded through the apartment before I had even heard the door close behind her. And then she was there, in the kitchen, still in her heels, flailing her arms in an adorable fashion.

"Andy! There you are", she called and stopped, still breathing rapidly as if she'd run up all the eleven flights of stairs. I wouldn't put it past her, not even in heels and four months pregnant and finally, finally sporting the bump I had so been looking forward to. She was excited and exuberant throwing her arms up again laughing merrily. With a few rapid steps and tell-tale clicks she stood right in front of me, her hands on either side of my face.

"I am just so happy, Andy."

Way to go in stating the obvious, honey, I thought to myself. She didn't look "just so happy". In fact she looked downright excited. She had left the office earlier on her way to see Rusty. So this had to be in some way related to Rusty.

"Andy!" she admonished me. "Aren't you going to ask me why I am just so happy?"

I decided to tease her for a little bit longer. Something obviously had her uncharacteristically cheerful and I love her in that mood. I had a mind to just take her to the bedroom there and then and … no, that wouldn't work, she was too eager for me to hear what she wanted to say so urgently.

"Well, being home with me would be good start," I deadpanned.

She looked at me for a moment and made an annoyed huff, "I come home to you every night – am I usually_ this_ happy?" That woman, I swear, she must have seen what I was thinking.

"Oh my dear, dear Andy," she continued clearly on a roll now. "Do you feel pushed back? Are you jealous because this incredibly good mood of mine has nothing to do with you?"

How I love Sharon like that, she can play me so easily, plays off of me so easily.

"Let me guess. You're pregnant?"

She threw her head back in roaring laughter exposing her long neck. "I am indeed. Have I told you yet? It's yours!"

I couldn't stop myself from kissing her, from pulling her close and devouring ever inch of her I could reach with my hands, lips firmly on hers. For a moment, there was nothing but the two of us, our bodies, our hands, our lips, the sound of our breathing and Sharon's humming. I could just so easily loose myself in her. I wanted to loose myself in her because she grounds me in a way no woman has ever been able to.

"Good, because I have to tell you, it's so much more fun kissing you when you're actually carrying _my_ child and not someone else's!"

"_Our_ child."

"That's what makes it perfect, you having _our_ baby."

The playfulness had disappeared leaving us in a moment of content quietness still tightly embraced. I could feel her lean into me and I shifted my arms so I could take on a little more of her weight.

"What made your day so special?" I finally asked looking right into her upturned face and she gave me a dazzling smile in return.

"Rusty. He asked if he could call me Mum. You know he's called me Mum once or twice when it's been just the two of us. But this was like he was asking me officially."

Her eyes were so bright, sparkling with pure unadulterated joy. The adoption had been one thing, but this really was the more significant step for Rusty, for them. I would have been jealous if it had been anyone but her children to make her "just so happy". I kissed her again, longer this time and when we pulled apart, she rested her head against my shoulder.

"I feel like I am walking on air. My boy wants to call me mum! And he even made up the cutest of reasons. He said he doesn't want to confuse the baby by calling me Sharon when his brother and sister call me mum. His brother and sister!"

/

The administrator turns out to be quite a surprise, because it's actually a woman. Okay, well, Sharon would have my hide for that comment. It's not the fact that she is a woman that is surprising about her. She is the same age as Amy Skyes and also has a military background. Absolutely everything about her speaks field and action. You only need to see her walk in and it's clear. She introduces herself as Detective Sergeant Alex Myers and apparently she is on loan from Special Operations and comes with a recommendation from Commander McGinnis herself. I cannot for the life of me see how she would fit into this role. I know Sharon likes to mentor young women on the force, but this seems like very odd fit, particularly since she won't even be here to mentor her into becoming an administrator.

When Provenza gets back from the meeting with Sharon, he calls me into her office, although it is technically his office now. I look at him swivelling around in her chair, the bobble head doll already on the desk - he has clearly taken residence and marked the place as his. I find myself gazing at the window wistfully remembering the moment with Sharon when I felt the first movements of our daughter. That seems like a lifetime away now, although it can't have been more than a few weeks.

My partner's rough voice interrupts my daydreaming. "Do not go there, Flynn. Whatever you two idiots have been up to in this office, wipe it off your mind. Ye Gods, I do not want to know!"

We haven't been up to anything in this office, not ever. Not for lack of trying on my part, but except for that one special moment, we've never even hugged, much less kissed. But Provenza doesn't know that and I like to keep him guessing.

He motions for me to sit down and proceeds to introduce me to my new role during Sharon's maternity leave._ I_ am to be the administrator while that newbie Alex gets to do the actual work. I am furious. I know that I am taking over part of Sharon's role while Provenza is taking over the other and that's what is expected of us as the two senior staff in the absence of our Captain - but I'll be completely off fieldwork! I'll be tied to a desk, like some old guy who they can't trust to shoot straight anymore. Me – a desk job? They have got to be kidding me! How can Taylor have approved this? Hell, how can Sharon have approved this – and without even talking to me first. Surely, she must have known! They would not have made a decision like this without her knowledge - or against her will for that matter. She approved this? I can feel anger rising up inside of me, white and hot and yearning to break out into fury.

My complaints are met by Provenza with a sardonic smile, "You brought this upon yourself, Flynn. I told you to stay away from her. I told you to cool it down. But you just couldn't listen, could you? And then you had to go and get her pregnant of all things. Idiots, the both of you!" Well, he did tell me all these things.

"Flynn, seriously, are you just complaining for complaining's sake or can you _really _not see the reason? Go home to the Captain and your child and think again. I believe you'll find the reason right there."

/

Sharon is lying on the folded-out sofa, her stomach protruding more than ever. All the anger from earlier just disappears into thin air when I look at her. I lack words to express how I feel seeing her so relaxed and happy and so visibly pregnant.

I can't remember if I was like that when Joanne was expecting our children but I do occasionally ask myself whether it is entirely normal that I can spend such inordinate amounts of time simply watching Sharon. I don't know how many of evenings in the past few weeks I have sat by her side and watched her sleep – and I mean literally watched her sleep. I would say it's out of concern for our daughter, but that's only tangentially true. It's Sharon. I can't seem to get enough of her. She is so beautiful, more so every day and our daughter must have grown since this morning, too.

When I tell her, she laughs and holds out her arms to me. "A little more every day." She scoots over and pulls me down beside her. There's barely enough room for us but we have perfected this over the past weeks and she snuggles into me with practised ease, sighing contently.

"I've missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart. How are the little walnut and her momma?"

"Really? First you tell me I've gotten fatter since this morning and now you're calling our daughter a walnut?"

"I didn't call you fat, I said your cute baby bump had grown."

"Semantics, Andy," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand and then raised one eyebrow at me, "A walnut, really?"

"Big walnut."

"Very big walnut indeed! So tell me, how did the rest of your day go?"

"I'll make you a deal – you tell me the fruit and I tell you about my day."

She turns her head to look at me and there is something in her features that I can't quite place. It's like she already knows what I am about to tell her.

"Deal, but you start, Andy. How was the rest of your day?" She is looking directly at me while absentmindedly rubbing her stomach making her special baby hum. I'm tempted to kiss her but I know she won't let me off the hook. So I just give her a little peck on the lips and bury my hand in her hair – and then I complain about Provenza who for all intents and purposes has me chained to a desk for the rest of her maternity leave, the idiot Taylor who must have approved it all and the general incompetence of everyone involved in that decision.

Sharon gives me the eyebrow and one of her indulgent smiles, humming again. "My poor baby. It seems that behind all that grumpiness your partner is hiding a very good heart."

"Sharon, you know full well that this decision is not something Provenza would have been able to implement without the approval of both you and Taylor. What on earth were you thinking?"

And then it dawns on me that I have been had. The woman I love and my partner, sworn enemies at some point, have conspired against me – and I haven't even noticed it up to now. Maybe I do spend too much time looking at her.

Sharon grows quiet and looks at me, her hand coming to rest on my cheek. "Andy, I did not do this because I believe you aren't fit for the job – and I knew you wouldn't be pleased with your new role when I made this decision. But I am your captain, and you are the father of my child and the man that I love. Do you realise that I am in a difficult situation here? I can't be seeing playing favours, and I don't want you to..." she swallowed hard and her expression changed. "I need you to be safe, Andy."

"You are pulling me off the street so that I can be save? Sharon, I have done this for many years, I do not need anyone protecting me."

"Nor do I, Andy, and you still do it – and I'm trying to let you look out for me."

Our eyes lock, her green ones boring into mine. It's a battle of wills and she has no intention of being the one to look away first. But then the intensity of her stare weakens and is replaced by a look of utter vulnerability. It tugs at my heart to see her like that. This is Sharon, the mother and the wife, I realise. The Captain is no longer here. Sharon smiles a little and in a gesture I have come to love places my hand on her stomach,

"Can you feel this, Andy? This is our daughter – and I am protecting her as much as you with this decision. I need you, Andy, _we_ need you. The little pomegranate and I need to know that Daddy is safe."


	11. Visitors

I'm divorced, I'm engaged, I'm pregnant, I'm on maternity leave and I'm sitting on my balcony in the middle of the day with my best friend secretly enjoying that I still have a big surprise in store for him.

Gavin and I had a lunch scheduled for today so he could give me the official documentation of the divorce. I called him in the morning to arrange to meet somewhere near his office. I am getting just a little bit bored with this staying at home thing. Plus, I do have my wedding to plan. Alas, Andy had gotten to Gavin first and no amount of wheedling, cajoling or outright begging would do. Gavin insisted on meeting me here.

The divorce papers lie on my desk now, sealed, signed and delivered, ready to be forgotten if it wasn't for Andy needing them to apply for our marriage license. My heart beats a little faster at the thought of giving them to him tonight.

It's one of these unusually mild early spring days and already warm enough to sit outside. I almost feel like I'm holiday. Gavin has brought food from our favourite place, a small bottle of wine for him and some sparkling white grape juice for me. He's picked up all the best little treats and we're sitting on my balcony chatting away happily.

"I have got to ask – did you really have so little faith in my skills as your lawyer?"

"What? Why would you think so?"

"I told you the divorce was a done deal, yet today you are positively floating. You're all giggles and excitement and little hidden smiles."

"Oh, I have complete trust in your abilities as my lawyer. Believe me, I would have not entrusted you with this if I hadn't thought you'd kick Jack's – you know what." I stop and smile at him. "Maybe I just have a different reason to be so particularly giggly and happy today."

"Ah, now we're talking business." Gavin folds his perfectly manicured hands and rest his chin in them. I have his full attention now.

"Pray tell!"

"I'm getting married!" I blurt out although I had intended to build up to the moment just a little longer - but Gavin doesn't disappoint. His response is very him, grossly exaggerated laughter and grand gestures, throwing his hands up in the air with the world's best eye roll.

"He didn't waste any time, did he?"

"Well, he did wait until the evening of the day of the divorce." I say with a wink.

"Not even twelve hours – your hot silver fox is clearly crazy about you."

"I said yes!"

"Of course you would, my dear catholic girl. You're carrying his child after all."

"I would have said yes regardless." Because I would have, I realise. I want to be Andy's wife because I want to spend my life with him. That's the simple truth.

"Congratulations, darling! You do look happy."

"I am happy. Very happy, giggly happy!" I confirm, giggling of course, "There's one more issue though that I do indeed need your help with."

"You want me to do a prenup?"

"What? God, no!" I sit up straighter and shake my head to emphasise my words, my hand finding its way to my stomach of its own volition. What a crazy idea! That thought has actually never crossed my mind.

"No, Gavin, no! I do not want a prenup! I'm getting married!"

"Which is the perfect time for a prenup," Gavin continues his line of reasoning.

"Oh hush! I need a wedding dress!"

Gavin cocks his head and looks at me critically, then points towards my stomach and gently pokes it with his finger.

"Oh my God, it's hard!" he exclaims managing to look excited and surprised at the same time.

"Of course it's hard. What did you expect?"

He looks at me over the rim of his glasses, "You are going to have one hell of a time finding a dress to hide that."

"Who is saying I have anything to hide? I want to look every bit as pregnant as I am."

"Your silver fox likes that?"

"You have no idea now much!" I say and feel my cheeks grow warm. It's nice to be able to talk to someone so openly, but it does make me just a little bit uncomfortable. Gavin of course knows no such reservations. Both Emily and Ricky were born before we met and he's never seen me pregnant. I am convinced his interest lies more in when she is here and he can spoil her rotten and dress her in baby Gucci. I'm not sure what Andy thinks of that, but I also know there won't be any way to stop Uncle Gavin.

"So, what I need you to do, Gavin, is to go out and find a wedding dress for me."

"From divorce lawyer to glorified shopping assistant. That hurts! Well darling, do tell me, what are you in the mood for? Vera Wang? Valentino? I'd say the frilly white number from your last marriage is off the table."

"Oh my, definitely! I made a lot of questionable choices back then, the dress being just one of them. I trust your good judgement, Gavin. Just please, don't go for anything too revealing. I am six months pregnant after all."

"My darling, you'll be a ravishing bride! Just glad you're not asking me to hide the belly for propriety's sake, you little Catholic girl!"

"No hiding anything, but it will need to go with flat shoes."

Gavin rolls his eyes at me in response. I knew the shoes were going to be a hard sell. I point at my belly, "It's getting a bit hard to keep my balance."

"Well, when have I ever shied away from a good challenge? All I'm saying is your man will better be taking his blood pressure medication or I can't guarantee for anything!"

/

"Are you missing work yet?"

"You are kidding me, right? Of course I am, although I have to say I really did enjoy being able to sleep and rest for the first few days."

"You've had a bit of a year."

"A bit of _three_ years. My heart did hurt when I handed Major Crimes over to Provenza."

"How did your man take his new job description?"

"As well as to be expected I suppose. Louie tells me he blew off quite a bit of steam at the office."

"Such a temper and such fire! Aren't you a lucky girl?"

"Gavin! Seriously! Andy was still angry when he got here. It's not a punishment, it's my way of making sure he is safe while making it _look _like a punishment."

"Did he understand that?"

"I don't need him to understand, I need him to be safe."

"Darling, he's not one of your children. This is the man you are planning on marrying."

"He did, he understood. It's not a job he likes, but under the circumstances, it's the best I could do to keep everything balanced."

"I honestly think you found the best solution for now."

"Well, let's just say my extensive knowledge of LAPD policy and the free legal advise have been very useful."

"You're welcome. How badly did your heart hurt?"

"My heart? My heart doesn't hurt at all, Gavin, it's not like we had an actual fight over it."

"No, when you were handing over the team – you said earlier your heart hurt."

"Oh that. That was difficult, we've grown into a real team over the past years and letting go of that was not easy. I almost can't remember a time that I didn't work, not since Ricky was born – and that was a much shorter maternity leave than this one is going to be. I'm not ready to sit at home."

"I sense a but coming."

"I am not ready to sit at home, but what _I _am ready to do or not is not the issue here. The life of our daughter is at stake. We came so close to loosing our little girl, Gavin. So very close. They were only just able to stop the labour at the hospital. I'm at high risk for preterm delivery and the only way to lower that risk is if I rest and take it as slow as possible. So that's exactly what I am going to do, and running Major Crimes isn't compatible with that. I will deny ever having said this, but I was dead on my feet after a half-day week of handovers without actually having been involved in any of the day to day case work…"

"So you are really telling me that you have not even tried to find out more about the cases your team is currently working on?"

"You obviously underestimate Andy's protective instinct. He was there when it happened, he was the one who got me to the hospital, he heard every single word Naomi had to say. He has set up a Chinese wall between me and Major Crimes, not even Sykes will tell me a single word! Come on, he even thought to tell _you_ not to meet me anywhere but here!"

"Good for you, darling, you need someone to look out for you for a change!"

/

I hear a knock on the apartment door just after Gavin has left and I think he must have forgotten something. But before I can even get up to open the door for him, I hear the sound of a turning key and then a voice.

"Mum? Are you awake?"

It's Rusty! The way he says Mum and means me is still so tentative, I can tell he is still testing out my reaction as much as his own feelings.

"Come on in, Rusty dear, I'm right here." I respond from the couch in the living room where Gavin has forced me to move to before he left claiming the balcony would be too cool. Talk about protective instincts!

I ruffle Rusty's hair when he sits down next to me and he doesn't pull his head away.

"How nice of you to come and visit! How are you?"

"I had a free period and I thought I'd come by and see how you and my little sister are doing."

"Your little sister is doing fine, she's been sleeping most of the morning and only just woke up."

Rusty looks at me, then at my hand on my belly. He has yet to ask to feel his sister's kicks. I know he's looking forward to having a sister and to being someone's big brother, but the idea of me being pregnant and what that implies for the nature of Andy's and my relationship is still a bit much for him emotionally. So he just smiles at me. My dear Rusty. He has changed so much in the past three years. From the angry, withdrawn teenager who insisted I'd call him Mr. Beck to the young man with a partial college scholarship sitting in front of me now asking about his sister and telling me about his courses and the other students, his roommates and a new chess partner. He has been doing this ever since I've stayed home. He will pop in for a visit, not because he has laundry or needs something in particular, it's just to talk. We haven't spent much time together since he left for college and I have missed our quiet conversations. He can handle his day to day life just fine, but since I've been on leave, he comes home regularly during his free periods and we talk just the two of us. I never had that with Emily and Ricky. She left home so early to live on the other side of the country, and even Ricky moved too far away for regular visits.

Of all our children Rusty and Nicole, who were there with us as we were falling in love, who saw our connection before we ourselves ever did, have accepted my pregnancy most readily.

At her wedding, Nicole had seen the spark between us before we had even been willing to admit it. When I had invited myself to the wedding that day I didn't really have any motive other than wanting to support Andy. His willingness to atone for past wrongdoings and his honest attempts to reconnect with his family were something I would have wished Jack would have done – and never did. It was exactly what I had been waiting for Jack to do all these years. I saw that and wanted to do all I could so Nicole and Jona could know their father.

When Andy asked me whether it was a date, I started to panic although he tells me I played it cool. Because, really, what straight thinking woman does that without having a hidden agenda? I also know myself well enough that I wouldn't have offered to go with just anyone wanting to reconcile with his children. I wouldn't have gone if I hadn't liked Andy just a little more than was proper for a Captain and her Lieutenant.

After years of being - for want of a better word – adversaries, we suddenly started seeing a lot more of each other at work when I was vetting Chief Johnson for Chief of Police and then again when I had to keep track of the team's investigations during the Goldmann lawsuit. I got a chance to see how Andy interacted with his colleagues and how he worked their cases, I saw another side of him and one I rather liked. That had been the spark that ignited the fire. I had always thought him an attractive man and when he sat next to me that strange Christmas dinner where I had suddenly become Chief Johnson's "friend", the air between us had been charged with electricity.

I'm still amazed at how quickly he became my ally once I joined Major Crimes. I had pegged him to be even more difficult than Provenza, but then I hadn't planned on the mutual attraction. That aside, we do work well together because our approaches are so different that we complement each other nicely.

I was terribly nervous getting dressed the night of the wedding. I must have changed dresses and hairstyles countless times. In hindsight I'm grateful there were only a couple of hours to get ready. Our hands found each other in church and we didn't let go for rest of the night. It had felt good and right, his big warm hands around my perpetually cold ones. We have talked about that evening many times since, but we can't tell who reached out first. Sitting next to him, so close, was exciting as was leaning just a bit into his shoulder. It was exciting, but at the same time it felt so normal, so right. That was the surprise. I would have expected excitement. We were holding hands at his daughter's wedding after all, but not contentment at the feeling that this was just how it should be.

I did have a little too much champagne once all the difficult moments for Andy with his ex-wife were over and everyone was chatting and dancing. Who more natural for Andy to dance with after the father-daughter dance than me? I threw all caution to the wind and myself into his waiting arms. He raised his eyebrow at my enthusiasm, but did pull me much closer than strictly necessary, dropping his hand low against my body.

Rusty watched me get ready for all my non-dates with Andy, he saw me come back home in the evenings. He saw my nervous anticipation when I left and my content, far-away smiles when I got back home. He heard me hum melodies from the Nutcracker and laughed when I helped Andy wrap Christmas presents for his grandsons. He was there with us when Andy would come over to work on cases or have dinner. He observed us and sometimes I believe that – much like Nicole – he saw what was happening before Andy and I ever did.


	12. My bride Sharon

**Author's note: ****I'm afraid Andy got a bit carried away here. He is just so taken by his bride and when he gets that excited, he does tend to ramble on. He's asked me to present his excuses, but really, what can he do when he just loves his Sharon and their little girl so much?**

* * *

><p>There she is! Sharon. My bride. My bride Sharon!<p>

God, she is beautiful. She is standing in front of St. Anna's surrounded by her children and Gavin and even from this distance I can tell she is wearing a dress I have never seen before, a dress that shows off the pronounced curve of her belly. She looks absolutely stunning. A section of her hair is twisted into a small roll on top of her head while the rest is tumbling down her shoulders in loose curls. She knows how much I love that look on her. It allows me to see all of her beautiful face and it so reminds me of the day _my friend Sharon_ invited herself to Nicole's wedding, the day I've started to consider as our first date which she maintains didn't take place until much later – and certainly after the night of the Nutcracker.

Sharon has spotted me now and she is laughing and motioning for me to come join them. My steps quicken in rhythm with the beating of my heart and the closer I get, the more I can see of her, and her smile, and the dress. The dress! My breath catches for a moment. She is beautiful. I am simply incapable of finding words to describe just _how_ wonderful she looks. But quite possibly the most beautiful thing about her is the child she is carrying. Our daughter is growing a little bigger every day now and as Sharon's belly is growing she is becoming ever more beautiful. What am I saying! Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe her. She's nothing short of amazing, she is! My bride Sharon.

The dress is very Sharon, showing off her amazing legs and the curve of her belly full of promise. She is here carrying our child and about to become my wife. She really is going to marry me! I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Who cares that it's only been a few hours since we last saw each other! I just can't stop myself. I need this moment, we both do. Sharon wraps her arms around my waist and melts into me with a cute little hum. She's happy. Feeling her in my arms, her belly firm against me, I know this is for real. I know this isn't just a dream, it's a dream come true. She really is here. We are really getting married.

When she gave me a gift-wrapped box containing a tie and handkerchief just before shooing me out the door after breakfast this morning, I had already guessed the dress wouldn't be white. She knows how much I love her in all shades of purple. Sharon will certainly have a fancier name for it, but for me the dress is that rich plum colour that looks so stunning against her white skin and makes her green eyes sparkle. The material is silky soft and cool to the touch making me want to touch her even more.

"Sharon, you are so beautiful," I can't think of anything more true to say.

"You look very dashing yourself, Andy," she says leaning back a little and giving me an appreciative look before adding with a smug smile "and we match!

"We do."

"I'm glad you liked my little wedding present."

She is running her hand over my tie smoothening out invisible creases when someone behind us clears his throat and she laughs, "I believe the master of ceremony wants to tell us something."

Gavin doesn't miss a beat, "And _I_ believe we have all been called here on the illustrious occasion of a wedding. Now, everyone is waiting just for the two of you. Go on, my darlings – and behave! All this kissing and cuddling in public is a wee bit premature."

For second time today I find myself shooed away, but this time Sharon is by my side, her hand firmly in mine. I exchange smiles with Gavin and her children, then turn back to my bride.

"Are you ready, my love?"

"I am." Her voice is so strong and steady, it makes me smile and my heart contract in happiness. She sounds so sure, just like the last time she said these words to me.

"Then let's get married!"

"Yes!"

I just can't contain my joy at how enthusiastic she is. I do know it is time to go into the church, but I just can't help myself. We've already taken the first steps when I pull gently on her hand and she turns to me with an expectant smile. I reach out to kiss her, just one more kiss, before we walk into the church holding hands.

Gavin and her children are slipping in behind us, friends and family standing up to welcome us. Everyone is here: our current and former teams, Major Crimes, IA, robbery homicide, Chief Johnson and her husband, the DA's office, my sponsor Dan and of course our children. I wouldn't have thought that this moment could be any more precious than it already is until I see him, sitting with Nicole and her husband, playing with my grandsons: Jona. My son has come! I squeeze Sharon's hand for a moment and she squeezes back. We are complete.

/

I actually took yesterday afternoon off and when I let myself into the condo Gavin was about to say goodbye to Sharon. I do like watching them interact. They are so close, so affectionate and the smiles she gives him are open and unreserved, she doesn't hold anything back. If she were to give that smile to anyone but Gavin and her children, I would be incredibly jealous, but just then she spotted me and her smile grew even wider, "Andy, you're home!" Knowing that I can top that already amazing smile, it's something I wouldn't have expected, but just love.

Since Gavin and Nicole had taken over the planning of the wedding, there wasn't much for us to do but to relax and enjoy our last day of living in sin. Sharon had looked at me with a truly shocked impression even though it had clearly been a joke. "Andy, you can't say that."

My goody two shoes catholic girl who had insisted on being married in church. I smiled and corrected myself, "Our last day of cohabitating."

Sharon rolled her eyes at me. "Andy," she said in that longsuffering tone of hers before resting her hand on my chest right above my heart and continuing with a lower voice. "Andy, can't we just say the last day of our engagement, the night before we'll be husband and wife, the beginning of a wonderful new chapter of our joint life?"

She was right, of course. Why make a stupid joke when we could just be utterly romantic?

When we were settling down to go to sleep Sharon brought up the topic of our wedding night, it's been a topic a few times since I proposed and yesterday it still seemed to weigh heavily on her mind. I had pulled her into my arms, letting her rest against my chest, my face in her hair and my hand drawing slow circles on her back.

She hummed, "I'm sorry we won't have much of a wedding night tomorrow, Andy."

"We'll be together, sweetheart, that's really all that is important for me."

"I know, me too. But I would have liked a romantic night with you."

We had talked about putting off the wedding until our little one was born, but Sharon had wanted to get married now and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't want to wait either.

"Oh honey, we'll have a beautifully romantic wedding night tomorrow right here in this very bed – and then we'll have another one when our little girl is here."

"And I'm healed," she said in a whisper.

It breaks my heart a little to hear her say and I know she's had trouble after Ricky's birth. "Of course, sweetheart," I wanted nothing more than to reassure her that I would never cause her pain. She still needed a little more reassurance.

"But how will we know it's our wedding night without the actual wedding?"

"Oh Sharon, trust me, we will know. There will be a night that will be all that you have dreamed of, and we'll call it our wedding night."

She gave me a big smile, but then decided she needed to dig a little deeper still, "I'll probably fall asleep on you tomorrow night."

She is cute, really, all she's been doing for weeks has been to fall asleep on me. "You fall asleep on me pretty much every night, sweetheart, and I stay awake just to feel how you relax in my arms and doze off."

"You do?" She sounded surprised.

"I do, I stay awake until both you and our little girl have settled down for the night."

She adjusted her position and lay her hand against the side of my face bringing her eyes to mine. "You really do that?"

"I do." I confirmed leaning into her hand.

"Oh Andy," she smiled and tried to hide the tears I could see in the corner of her eye. "You are always there, even when I'm not looking, even when I'm asleep. I love you, Andy."

"I love you, Sharon." Her hand was still on my cheek when I kissed her gently, her lips soft and pliant against mine. "As long as you'll fall asleep in my arms tomorrow wearing my ring, I'll be the happiest man in the world. There is no pressure on you for the day, or the night. You rest and take it easy, and if you could say yes at the right moment, well, I'd very much appreciate that."

"Of course I will!"

"Good, I'm glad we agree on that."

"I still want a proper wedding night with you, Andy, and I want to go on a honeymoon."

"Then we'll do that, too. Tomorrow night I just want to take you back home and tuck you into in bed and make sure you and our little girl are safe. That is really all I want. We can do the grand gestures later, the honeymoon, the _proper _wedding night, I'll even carry you over the threshold. But as far as I'm concerned, the grandest of gestures is already happening right here. It doesn't get any more grand than that." I accompanied my words by letting my hand slip under her nighty to caress her rounded belly and she leaned in to kiss me again, longer this time. I could feel her relax against me and start humming. I was so glad that I was finally able to give her the reassurance she needed. I mean, of course I am looking forward to a wedding night with lots of sex, but that can wait. There are more important things right now and there'll be a time for all the gestures she so craves.

Slowly her breathing became more and more regular. I thought she had gone to sleep when I heard her quiet voice.

"Andy?"

"Yeah."

"Do you talk to her when I sleep?"

"I do. I tell her all your little secrets."

"Have you told her we're getting married tomorrow?"

"I have, she has even agreed to be extra nice to mummy tomorrow, no kicking."

"I'll hold you to that, daddy."

Just as I had told her I waited until both she and our little girl had fallen asleep. Mummy seemed to be the more tired one of the two. She was out like a light without any signs of pre-wedding jitters or worries about wedding nights while the little one kept kicking just below my hand.

I told our girl about today, the day her mummy would become my wife and I would get to tell her how much I loved her in front of our closest friends. I talked of the ring I had picked out that was currently in a small box in my bedside drawer. How I'd enlisted the help of her big sister Nicole in choosing it and how just to be safe, she had run it past her other big sister Emily as well and that they had agreed their mummy would love it.

I had never gotten Sharon an actual engagement ring and I wanted to give her a ring she would wear every day, one that would fit her personality and her elegance. I was busy picturing her reaction today upon me sliding the simple platinum band with the diamond solitaire onto her finger when she stirred in her sleep, burrowing deeper into my embrace with a hum. How I love that she craves this closeness as much as I do, even when she's asleep. Her hair tickled me a little and with her scent in my nose, I drifted off safe in the knowledge that I was right were I belonged.


	13. Canteloupe

**Author's Note: ****Thank you for all your reviews, I really appreciate hearing from you and am glad you are enjoying this story. There is more wedding fluff coming your way!**

**I noticed that I had mistakenly uploaded an old version of the last chapter. I've since rectified that adding context in the flashback that will be important in future chapters. Sorry about that, I know the first version was a little disjointed. Seemed like Andy wasn't the only one who was a little too keen to finally see them get married!**

* * *

><p>This day is wonderful, it is pure and simple and just the way I had hoped it would be. It's a day for our friends and family to celebrate with us, it's about our love and our future as a couple and as parents. Not for the first time do I marvel at how easy the use of the word "our" in relation to Andy and myself has become. Our daughter, our love, our future, our wedding.<p>

We are standing before Father Joseph. Andy's arm is wrapped around my waist and his other hand is resting softly on my belly. I'm leaning into him, into his warmth and strength and our little girl is kicking up a storm like she knows what is about to happen and wants her part in this special moment. Andy's warm hand is rubbing slow circles over my belly and as I turn to look into his face, the love I see in his eyes makes my knees give in a little. If my heart hadn't already been beating so fast, now it would have. I mouth a silent "I love you" and Andy bends down and kisses my cheek breathing "I love you" into my ear.

We say our vows. Andy's voice is sure and steady, I can feel his chest vibrate as he speaks and lean against him a little more. My own voice sounds unusually low to my own ears but makes him smile at me. When Father Joseph pronounces his blessing on our union our lips meet in a soft and tender kiss. My eyes close as I sigh contentedly into our kiss and it takes me a moment to understand what is happening next. Andy is suddently down on his knees with both arms around me placing a kiss on my belly and then resting his head against it. It's a gesture somehow so much more intimate than the kiss on my lips and even though only friends and family are around us, I feel myself blushing. Andy stands up and pulls me into a hug, his hand at the back of my head guiding my face against his shoulder. I realise what he is doing. He is shielding me from view giving me a moment to compose myself. He does know me so well, knew I would feel a bit unsettled after his unexpected gesture and would need a moment just to ourselves to calm down again.

"Mrs. Flynn," he whispers into my hair and waits for me to look up at him before we kiss, longer this time.

/

Gavin and my children had offered to pay me company as I was waiting outside of St. Anna's for Andy to arrive. Emily was telling me about her new show, but I interrupted our little chat mid-sentence when I saw him. Andy! He was here. He was here to marry me! I waved at him and he practically started running, sweeping me gallantly into his arms like the hero in an old movie. No more than a couple of hours had passed since I had asked him to leave the apartment to allow me to surprise him, but he embraced and kissed me like it had been days and I heard a content hum escaping my throat. It felt so good to hold him and to realise that this was really it, that we were really going to get married!

My Andy, he was so sweet, so loving and cute in the way he wouldn't let go of me. I wouldn't have reached out to him like this, I would have been too reserved, but all his tender touches calmed and relaxed me. Only in his arms did I realise how nervous I had actually been, how much I needed to feel him to be grounded. Even the little one who had been unusually quiet all morning started moving at the sound of her father's voice greeting him in her own way.

I could tell how excited Andy was by the way he kept kissing and touching me, holding me, caressing my belly. His eyes roamed over my body as his fingers kept playing with the soft fabric of the dress and I could feel his warmth through the thin material.

When I had told Gavin I wanted something to show off my pregnancy and not hide it, I hadn't expected him to find a dress quite as spectacular as this. I might be almost six months pregnant, but I still wanted to look good for my husband and Andy was making me feel so beautiful, even with my protruding stomach. It was quite adorable to see his eyes dart from my face to my belly to my cleavage seemingly unable to decide what he liked best. I didn't care, I felt so pretty and desirable and his reaction flattered me more than I could ever say.

It was easy to tell the exact moment Andy spotted Jona. I had known he would be there. Nicole had told me it would be her surprise for Andy. Little did I know that Andy had a little surprise for me in store as well. Sitting in a pew beside my three older children were my parents!

Before I could even turn to look at Andy, he was already whispering to me,

"Go ahead and greet them sweetheart, I'll wait for you here."

But I couldn't just leave my husband-to- be standing in the aisle all alone and so I pulled him with me and then fell into my mother's arms, kissing her cheek feeling a few lone tears run down my face as my father wrapped his arms around the two of us.

"Mum, Dad, you are here!"

"We wouldn't have missed this for the world," my mother beamed resting her hand on the side of my belly.

"But I thought…"

"I'm never too old to see my daughter get married!"

My dad hadn't been well and just the day before they had told me the doctor had advised him not to travel. Yet they were here to share this day with Andy and me! They were here! Everyone was here! My mother smiled when she felt her granddaughter kick and wiped the tears away from my cheek.

"Your fiancé is waiting for you, darling."

My fiancé, who had been looking at me all along with his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers and a content smirk on his face.

/

Towards the end of the reception my mother is pointing out to me how well our five grown children seem to be getting on. She is right. All of them are standing close together, even Andy's son Jona who has never met any of my three seems to have found a place in their midst. Jonathan Flynn is a proud, somewhat brash young man with his father's good looks and I can easily see a younger version of my Andy in him, tall with broad shoulders and clearly defined muscles and that trademark Flynn lack of restraint and easy temper. I'm telling my mother about his plans to join the military and we both agree that the strict military discipline will probably serve him well in the long run.

Between my exuberant duo and Andy's very forward, direct children I'm sure they are giving Rusty a run for his money. Before I can worry about Rusty, all five of them are conspiratorially putting their heads together. Seeing them get on so well makes me smile. Then I notice that they are casting subtle and not so subtle glances at me and – are really looking at my stomach? I'm starting to feel self-conscious when then keep looking and then arguing, playfully shoving each other and laughing.

"I think it's time we sat down, don't you, darling?" my mother says with a sparkle in her eyes and moves us to a table a little closer to the group. My dear mum, I am so happy she is here with me today. She has such a kind way about her, always looking out for others. My back has been hurting me for a while now and I've been very careful not to show it so Andy wouldn't worry. But she knows that I am uncomfortable and sits down with me, her hand gently rubbing my sore muscles.

I can make out Emily's voice first, "It's this weird game they play, they give the baby names. Like at Christmas, it was a peach."

"Maybe a cabbage?" Nice to know Jona really had inherited his father's sense of humour!

"Nah, too small. Looks more like a pumpkin to me now." Oh Ricky, how happy would I be if your little sister was already as big and heavy as a pumpkin!

"I'm sorry to put it to you, but you guys obviously have no idea. It's always fruit, never veg." My heart melts at hearing my youngest son correcting his older siblings with such ease. It really touches me that Rusty has been attentive enough to make up his own little theory. But before I can turn to ask my chuckling mother about her opinion on fruits and vegetables, Emily starts again:

"You would know, wouldn't you? Because you, my baby brother, are right here with them - and yet: You didn't see any of this coming? Did I get the required phone call from my little brother telling me that mum was dating? Did you tell us she was going into the fruit business?"

Oh my, that's my daughter all the way to the dramatic movements of her hands and the raised eyebrow. It always makes me chuckle to see Gavin reflected in her, nurture taking precedence over nature for sure.

"Fruit business? New York has certainly given that granddaughter of mine a tone, don't you agree, Sharon?" My mother pauses for a moment and then smiles thoughtfully. "Peach at Christmas. That worked out perfectly, didn't it?"

"I know, we couldn't have planned it better!" I am so enjoying that I finally have someone who understands me. Christmas had indeed coincided with the thirteenth week of my pregnancy and with the first trimester over and having everyone together it had been the perfect time to break the news.

It was actually my mother who started comparing my baby to berries, and melons, and pumpkins when I was pregnant with Emily. She sent me postcard with a picture she had drawn herself every single week of my pregnancy. It had taken me a few weeks to catch on but then I had put them all up in Emily's bedroom and they were there for years, and the same again with Ricky, only this time it had been photographs. That's why I'm surprised both of them have still to make the connection. I had even used these postcards to teach them the names of quite a few fruits – and vegetables, too!

My mother puts her hand on my stomach and smiles softly. "Canteloupe – and my youngest grandson was wrong, wasn't he?"

Yes, Rusty had indeed been wrong. At this point, I am running out of fruits to illustrate our daughter's size. She's firmly moving into the realm of vegetables. Just for the record, I am determined to make it at least as far as watermelon before I let her go out into this world.

The conversation between the children has continued and Rusty is now busy defending himself. "I talk to Nicole." I hear him say and see Nicole's large smile as she confirms, "My stepbrother and I have no secrets!" Do they really? It looks like Andy and I will have to start taking that into consideration, I had no idea that Nicole and Rusty had become this close.

My mother and I lock eyes for a moment "Your husband might want to know that."

"I thought we would have had some more time before they would all start ganging up on us, but really, don't you just love to see them bonding?" I know Andy is going to enjoy this conversation when I tell him about it tonight.

"Oh, I see. Well, baby brother, at least you do see the necessity to keep _some_ of us informed. We'll just need to work on who you'll be informing in the future. I am thinking some computer magic information exchange thing for all of us would work. You're the nerd, Ricky, you can do that." My girl is now clearly in her element as the big sister. She leans back and rubs her hands together in excitement, "Now, wouldn't that be so much fun!" I can see her eyes sparkling even from where I'm sitting. This is the dangerous phase. The scheming has begun.

Before I can hear any more of their conversation Andy comes to claim me for our dance. I love that he wears his heart on his sleeve, today in particular. Everything about him tells me how happy he is, how much joy I am bringing him. It is a very special, a very new feeling for me. No man has ever loved me like Andy does. He looks at me with such love and adoration, and such honesty. There is no hesitation, no doubt in the way he approaches me. He stands here in front of me and smiles and for a moment I'm not even sure my legs will carry me, but he bends down to kiss me and gently pulls me to my feet for our wedding dance.

I look back at our children one more time. If it means they get on so well, they can look at my belly and speculate all they want, I decide. They had all been so sweet stepping up to make sure our little celebration could take place so quickly. They are good children, all of them.

Andy pulls me close – and then I hear the music. What a sweet, sweet girl! We have danced to this very same song at Nicole's wedding and clearly she has remembered because Andy is just as surprised as I am. This time, I don't need to dream about the feeling of his lips on mine, I can simply wrap my arms around his neck and I can be as close to him as my belly allows. I can run my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck and rest my head against his chest and just be happy.

I feel like I'm floating as he's moving me around the dance floor in a slow dance. I press myself against him and I can feel his smile as he tightens his arms around me, dropping a kiss onto my hair. Oh my, this feels so good. I'm right where I belong. His arms are so strong and his body is warm and I am content to be in the moment surrounded by his familiar scent.

I forget how much my back ached and how tired my legs felt just before I got up. I forget that just moments ago I was disheartened that the past weeks have so quickly turned me from a woman very fit for her age into one who simply isn't used to walking around and standing up anymore.

Just then, Andy lifts my face and kisses me. I am in the arms of the man I love, we've just been married and I am carrying our daughter who is incessantly kicking wanting part of the action and all the fun going on around her. What else could I want? Andy keeps his lips on mine and we kiss until cheers break out from our guests, or more specifically our children and our team egged on by none other than the grumpy Lieutenant himself. Andy just deepens the kiss and brings up his hands to cup my face as if he was afraid I might run away. I won't. I have found all I ever wanted.

Andy gallantly walks me back to my seat, helps me sit down beside my mother and goes in search of drinks. Now that he has left, now that the excitement of the dance has worn off and he is no longer there to hold me up and support part of me, I do feel tired and heavy, and my back is aching again, my abdominal muscles tensing and becoming hard. I look forward to going home with my husband soon, to our wedding night however long I'll manage to stay awake for it.


	14. My wife Sharon

At the end of our dance after the cheers from our friends have subsided and our long kiss has come to an end we continue to stand there. Sharon is leaning into me with her arms around my neck, my hands still cupping her face when she pulls back at little to smile at me. She looks adorable with her hair slightly mussed up, her lipstick a little smudged from kissing and her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"When we danced at Nicole's wedding I never in my wildest dreams imagined that we'd be dancing at our own wedding now."

"I know, sweetheart. Tell me this is not just a dream."

"This is better than any dream, Andy. This is reality!"

Reality. Reality is this beautiful woman in my arms, my wife. Reality is that in less than four months we will become the parents of a little girl and what hasn't already been turned upside-down in our lives up to now certainly will be then. I can't wait! I just want to take her home, wrap her in my arms and make plans for our future.

For now, I settle on accompanying her back to her place beside her mother who is waiting for her with a big smile.

/

I loved every moment of our wedding day so far, but one of my favourite must have been Sharon's little squeal of surprise when she saw the ring. I didn't even have time to put it on her finger before she kissed me and I heard a happy cheer from our daughters followed by the sound of hands meeting in mid air. Why not high-five your parents getting married? Father Joseph kept his calm throughout, but I have no doubt he thought us rather strange.

The greatest surprise of all was the presence of Sharon's parents. I have never before seen her with them and the bond they share clearly runs deep. Her father William Fitzpatrick is a tall man with a full head of white hair and the same intensely green eyes as Sharon. He is coming up on his ninety-second birthday this summer, but one wouldn't know from seeing him stand up to hug his daughter. Beside him his wife Caitlin looks even more petite than she already is.

It was Caitlin who had called me on my mobile just after we had announced the wedding. Since Ricky had been handling all the logistics on Sharon's side of the family, I had been a little surprised, and a little worried.

"May I call you Andy?" Caitlin asked at the beginning of our conversation.

"Of course, Mrs Fitzpatrick." No matter how old you'll get, I figured it was best to address your fiancée's parents by their full name until they specifically told you otherwise.

"I would prefer if you called me Caitlin, Andy. May I speak to you about your wedding?"

"Uh, yes, of course…Caitlin."

I had been a bit apprehensive. Why was she calling me? To lecture me on getting her daughter pregnant without being married? To tell me to wait with the wedding until our daughter was born? To leave her daughter alone? I suddenly felt insecure. Should I have asked her father before proposing to her? Surely not, at our age? Luckily, my worries had been unfounded and Caitlin had been calling for a very different reason.

"I believe you know that my husband Will has been rather poorly? The doctor has advised him not to travel, but he is nothing short of determined to attend the wedding. You do know my daughter and she certainly is strong-willed, but trust me when I say she is nothing compared to her father. He will do whatever it takes to see his girl get married. Andy, we've told Sharon we won't be able to come, because I do not want her to be disappointed when we have to cancel, but we are planning to at least come to church."

"I know it would mean the world to Sharon to have you both there." I understood her only too well. If Sharon had been allowed to fly, we would have gotten married near her parents' to save her father the trip.

"We would prefer to surprise rather than disappoint her, but I wanted you to be prepared."

We agreed that Rusty would pick them up from the airport and Ricky would go to church with them the next day while Emily would help Sharon get ready. It had worked out perfectly with all of the kids chipping in.

After the ceremony Sharon formally introduced me to her parents. I had known that Sharon's father had been a doctor in a family practice, but not that he had practiced as an OB/GYN as well. As he and Naomi were discussing Sharon's pregnancy in quite a bit of detail, I couldn't help but get the impression that Sharon hadn't told her parents just how close we had come to loosing our daughter. The more they were talking, the more thoughtful Sharon became. She didn't look unhappy, but she didn't look at ease either. When I touched her shoulder she turned to me and sighed.

"This is how Dad used to be. This is the old William Fitzpatrick, MD. It may be medicine from forty years ago, but it's all still there." She smirked, "I am being ordered to rest and take it slow."

She was right. Neither Captain Raydor nor Mrs Flynn had any say here. Sharon was once again the child who had to promise her father to look after herself and his granddaughter. William leaned forward to press a kiss on his daughter's forehead laying his shaking hand on her stomach and Sharon covered it with her own gently moving it a little to the side. Father and daughter looked at each other fondly for a moment and then William's face lit up and his features became soft as he felt the movements of his granddaughter.

"Half a lifetime ago I used to sit like this with your mother and you were the one who kicked me."

"And I remember half a lifetime ago when we sat like that and Emily was the one doing the kicking. Do you remember, Dad?"

"Like it was yesterday, my girl. Like it was yesterday."

"She could be your great-granddaughter, Dad."

"And you could be my granddaughter, Lizzie. What difference does it make? We have always taken every child as a blessing from God, in our youth as in our older years."

Sharon hugged him and I had tears in my eyes. That simple acceptance. The love that was contained in that statement. I realised that this was exactly what Sharon had done: taken our child as a blessing, as a special gift. That's why her parents had never once said a single word about us expecting a child at our age.

It hadn't stopped William from giving me the third degree though, "So, young man, what are your intentions towards my daughter?"

"Will, our daughter is a grown woman. I'm sure she and Andy have discussed this," Caitlin interrupted putting a calming hand on his arm in a very familiar gesture.

"Well, young man, at least you had the decency to make an honest woman out of my Sharon," her father continued, still looking at me intensely.

"Sir, Ma'am, I promise you that I will forever love and cherish your daughter, that I will protect her and be by her side whatever may come." I took Sharon's hands in mine and raised it to my lips. "I love you, Sharon."

"Dad, Andy proposed to me the moment I was divorced," Sharon quickly came to my defence and held my hand tightly. In an ideal world we would have gotten married first and then started a family. To an extent I could understand her father. My mother had been scandalised just to hear she would be a grandmother once again. She had told me in no uncertain terms that her mother would surely be turning in her grave – and she hadn't even known Sharon was still married to Jack at the time.

"I think we can trust him, Will. Look at how happy he is making our girl," Caitlin said with a wink indicating Sharon who was kissing my hands and then rested her cheek against them with a content smile, eyes closed. She really did look blissful at that moment. Her father looked at her and then nodded slowly.

William left the reception a little later, but not before pulling me aside for a quiet chat amongst the two of us. He really is a remarkably tall man and even slightly bent as he stood now he was towering over me.

"Andrew Flynn. I am glad I got to meet you and see for myself that you are sincere. I don't have much time left on this earth, but at least now I can go in the knowledge that my Sharon is being loved the way she should be. Thank you for loving my daughter, Andrew."

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes and I had to swallow hard before I could answer, "Thank you for trusting me, William. I love Sharon and I promise you, I will always be there for her and for her children and grandchildren."

He pulled me into a fierce hug that still spoke of the strength that had once been there.

/

While I didn't get to spend the entire afternoon with Sharon I kept looking for her throughout to make sure everything was okay. After all, a wedding reception was not exactly the bedrest she was supposed to be on.

She was sitting down most of the time, laughing and talking with her mother and all our kids. It seemed she instinctively knew how to approach Jona, how to make him feel welcome without being overbearing. She hugged Nicole and let her feel the kicks of her little sister and when my two grandsons climbed up next to them, they also got put their hands on her stomach and giggled. She ruffled Rusty's hair and he rolled his eyes a little, but didn't pull away. Both Ricky and Emily got their share of hugs and kisses and happy looks. They were all one big happy family.

/

Not long after our dance I walk over to my wife and wrap my arms around her sitting frame, bringing my lips to her ear,

"I'm ready to take my bride home."

"Then take me home, my dear husband."

What a smile! She extends her hand and when I take hold of it to gently help her get up, it happens. The joy on her face quickly turns into a mask of pain as she clutches her stomach with her free arm, a moan escaping her mouth. I can feel her lean heavily into me, muffling the groans of pain in my shoulder.


	15. Wedding Night

This is not at all how I imagined our wedding night to go. I thought we would go home to a quiet evening of whispered words and gentle caresses, candles and a massage with those wonderfully scented oils. I had already envisioned myself in Andy's embrace, calling each other Mr. and Mrs. Flynn and Mummy and Daddy, reminiscing about the day and planning for a proper wedding night.

I do know why our wedding night is so important to me even while I am fully aware that in the grand scheme of things, it's really not important at all. I'm almost a little bit embarrassed to admit it. But the wedding night was one of the few really good things about Jack and me. We had a wonderful night and an almost illegal amount of fun. Is it so wrong that I just really want my wedding night with Andy to be better? I know, it's idiotic, because us getting married is about our life after the wedding, and not one single night. Look at how Jack and I turned out. An inordinate amount of pain certainly followed that one fun-filled night. It's just that I so want that moment in Andy's arms when he touches me and I know: he is my husband, he is the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with.

Poor Andy, I went on and on about that last night. He didn't seem to mind though. He was actually really sweet. It's so like him to pick up on my insecurities and reassure me over and over that he cares about me and about our daughter and not about the one night. I am so lucky to have found Andy, a man who understands me and knows my insecurities and is still willing to love me – and I love him. He is right: we will have our night and we will have so many nights together. We will probably have a lot of sleepless nights together with our little girl. That's where my relationship with Jack started going downhill and where I know it won't with Andy. He is always so gentle with me, even at the most intense moments. I know he will never hurt me and he will never yell at our little girl like Jack did with Emily.

/

Just this morning I had woken up in a state of total bliss to Andy's hands gently caressing my stomach and the smell of that wonderful oil he had brought home just a few nights ago. Everything had felt so right and so good, his warm chest against my back, his hands on my belly and his warm breaths tickling me as he was talking to our little girl in a low voice. I could have stayed like that all day. Maybe I should have. I might not be in an ambulance right now fearing for our daughter's life.

A beautiful day had followed with all those important to us around to share in our joy. Our wedding had been perfect until that very last moment. I knew the pain was visible on my face by the shock reflected in Andy's. It had been so sudden that I didn't even have time to school my features. Andy had immediately tightened his arms around me making me feel safe and cared for despite the white hot pain in my belly.

"I've got you Sharon. I've got you," he kept whispering looking at me with darkened eyes while he helped me sit down again.

"Oh my Lizzie, that bad?" My mum's warm voice and the familiar touch of her hands almost made me cry. I nodded through gritted teeth. "I'll find Naomi and ask her to meet you outside."

I looked up at Andy. One of them, I needed one of them to hold my hand, one of them to hold me. I couldn't just sit here by myself and not start crying. They understood without the need for words and Andy took my mother's place, putting an arm around me. I could feel his concern in every touch while I tried to take deep, calming breaths. I relaxed a little as the pain dulled. Maybe it had just been a Braxton Hicks contraction after all, I kept telling myself.

When I finally got up Andy even found a way to disguise our rather hurried departure.

"Hey folks, listen up. My wife and I had a great time with all of you. Thank you so much for coming and sharing our wedding day with us! Please stay and celebrate some more, but as for me, I would _really_ like to get my bride into bed now."

Andy winked and the room was roaring with laughter. We left to the sounds of cheers and whistles, Andy's arm firmly around my waist.

/

Walking felt good and I was beginning to relax a little when I saw Naomi and my mother waiting for us outside. I wanted to tell them that everything was fine and I just needed to go home and be off my feet, but before we had even reached them, my muscles contracted again and I doubled over with a yelp of pain.

Andy held me when my legs gave in and he let me rest against his body while I waited for the pain to stop. I remember his concerned voice and his touch, my mother's calm and Naomi's reassuring tones as they walked me over to the car and helped me sit down in the passenger seat. I took a deep breath, leaning back shakily against the seat.

"I want to go home." I said meekly. "I want to go home, Andy."

They were all standing there, looking at me, faces a mask of concern. Naomi started asking me questions and then suddenly a flurry of activity broke out. Naomi offered to drive but Andy declined saying she could probably do more for me right now. I wanted to protest and tell them all I needed was to go home and rest. I am pretty sure I spoke, but they just ignored me.

Naomi was giving Andy directions when another contraction started. I had to bite my lips not to scream out loud. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around my belly trying to stop the pain with Naomi's gentle voice telling me to breathe. It wasn't as intense as a few weeks ago at the beach, but this felt different, more regular, scarier. This was not my first child, and I knew what it felt like to be in labour and this felt frighteningly close.

The contraction stopped and I sat back again trying to relax. Andy's hand was on my knee and my mother leant in to gently caress my cheek while Naomi was talking to someone on the phone about preterm labour confirming my worst fears. No. Please, no. Not when I am only 25 weeks along and our daughter is still so little. Not today of all days. Not on our wedding day.

/

I don't have a clear recollection of how I got into Naomi's practice. Her movements are gentle as she examines me, but I am so tense and worried that it hurts. I crying and calling for Andy who is already at my side, holding my hand, his lips at my temple kissing me softly. Oh Andy, what have I done? My tears are flowing freely now, without any inhibition. I am so scared and the pain doesn't stop. I hear Naomi and Andy talk as she puts a needle in my arm and hooks me up to an infusion.

"Andy, I want to go home." I plead tearfully. "I want to go home."

"Sharon, listen to me. You cannot go home, you are in labour. I'm giving you medication to stop the contractions and an ambulance is on its way for you." Naomi's voice is calm and measured, designed to invoke trust in her patients and make them calm down.

"But I want to go home. I just got married."

"Oh sweetheart, you heard Naomi. Let's get you to the hospital to make sure you and our little girl are okay."

"I can't have her yet, Andy. She won't be okay if I have her now. She is still so little," I whisper in quiet despair.

"You won't have her now, Sharon. You are getting medicines to stop the contractions and you will both be fine. Do you hear me? Everything will be fine."

"But I want to stay with you." I cry.

"I'm staying with you, honey, I am not leaving you."

"Andy!" I cry again and it's all I can say.

I'm so glad when Andy asks Naomi to give us a few minutes alone and when we are, he sits down on the side of the narrow table and bends over me, gently lifting my head to slide one of his hands underneath. My head bedded in the palm of his hand, his lips find mine and his free hand is moving from my hair along my body, over my back and my belly. Slow, deliberate movements and I feel myself getting calmer with every long stroke of his hand. He talks to me in a low, soothing voice and its regularity and familiarity help me relax. I can feel his warm breath over my face, his fingers sliding over the silk of my dress until they come to rest over our daughter. Warm and dependable. My husband's hands.

"I am here, Sharon. I am right by your side. I won't leave you."

I believe him. I am acutely aware of the needle in my arm, the medical smells, the pain in my body, but Andy is here.

"We married now," I whisper in quiet wonder.

"We are, sweetheart. We are married now."

But the contractions don't stop and the next one makes me cry out loud enough for Naomi to come back in. She adjusts the dose of the medication and helps me shift into another position. I catch a glimpse of Andy's expression, unguarded now. He looks every bit as scared as I'm feeling.

/

I had so many romantic ideas of how tonight should be and not a single one involved me in the back of an ambulance still wearing my wedding dress, Andy in his tux, fearing for the life of our daughter as my body seems intend on giving birth right now.


	16. Another Wedding Night

**Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your reviews on the last two rather angsty chapters. This chapter is a bit longer. Andy just has a way with words!**

* * *

><p>Like every morning for the past week I wake up with a start in a cold and empty bed. I used to wake up like this, with a jolt, feeling disoriented. Maybe it's something left over from the time when I was drinking and would regularly wake up in unfamiliar places with no idea of what had happened the night before. Since Sharon and I have started spending the nights together I have always woken up with a deep feeling of peace and belonging, a quiet happiness at finding her nestled against me.<p>

But Sharon isn't here and the panic I wake up to now runs deep. In those moments between sleeping and waking the bits and pieces come together to form a situation that has me frozen in fear and helplessness. Sharon is lying miles away from me in a hospital bed fighting for the life of our daughter. There is nothing I can do, but hold her hand and tell her to be strong. I can't even hold her, all I do is sit next to her and look at her, hold her hand and be optimistic. I feel like a useless husband.

/

I spent our wedding night in a chair at the side of her bed still wearing my tux. Caitlin had been by to drop off some clothes for us, but I didn't want to leave Sharon's side. I couldn't leave her alone when she was scared and crying, not even when her mother was with her.

Naomi's colleagues at the hospital had confirmed that Sharon was indeed in labour. It was frightening. There was nothing we could do. I remembered what Sharon had told me after she had collapsed at the beach: that the doctors were already doing everything for her and that she needed me to be calm and at her side. I remembered that and I didn't interfere with the doctors. Naomi was there from the beginning, fighting Sharon's battle. I held her as much as I could, I held her hands and kissed her, I spoke to her and tried to calm her. I didn't allow her to give up. It took hours, literally hours, for the medication to finally kick in and for the contractions to stop. Last time I had thought I could never be more scared, but this time, it was worse because it took so much longer. At one point, the doctors even debated giving Sharon steroids to speed up our daughter's lung development should she be born so prematurely.

I've never seen Sharon as panicked as during that evening and night. She had been so calm still when we left the reception, even after the first contractions she had wanted to go home and rest. Yet throughout those frightful hours, I could tell she was growing more and more worried, crying helplessly. She _had_ to stay calm for our little girl. Naomi projected a calm and a quiet reassurance and between her, Caitlin and myself, we managed to settle Sharon down a little. Hell, Naomi even managed to calm me – at least until I saw her talk to the other doctor and saw the worry on her face.

Late at night, the contractions finally stopped and Sharon drifted off into a fitful sleep. There she was, my wife of not even a day and half of that time must have been some of the scariest hours we've ever faced. Even in sleep, the worry lines and the pain were visible on her face, her eyelashes wet with tears. It was so difficult to imagine that last night only we had been cuddled up happily in bed looking forward to today. I had said then that all I would want for tonight was to hold her and for her to wear my ring. As it turned out, I had been far too ambitious. My ring was on her finger, but she was lying in a bed too small for me to share with her. So I had pulled the chair up as closely as possible, resting my head on the bed, my big hands wrapped around her small ones.

Only the sound of the various monitors she was attached to filled the quiet of the room. I gingerly extended my hand to lay it against her stomach and only after I felt a few kicks of our little girl did I dare to close my own eyes telling Sharon how much I loved her and how much I admired her for what she was doing for us. Her hands tightened a fraction, but she didn't open her eyes.

Hands that felt a lot like Sharon's woke me the next morning. It was Caitlin who had come to check on her daughter. We sat together in silence watching Sharon sleep for the next hour. Caitlin smiled at me and laid her hand on my arm and I found a modicum of comfort in the familiar gesture.

The next days were calm. Sharon mostly slept and we took a few tentative steps together. I could tell how fearful she was, and I was hyper vigilant as well. Every movement, every little change in her posture, and I froze. I could tell from her face if something was even slightly off. At the end of the second day she tried to send me home to sleep, but I refused. If I couldn't hold her in my arms, I wanted to at least be by her side. Neither of us wanted to fight so I spent another night in the chair.

During our walk the next day I was the one limping and groaning and I grudgingly agreed to go home for the night where I didn't sleep at all because I missed her so much. I tossed and turned, lay down on her side of the bed, buried my nose in her pillow where some of her scent still lingered, tried to sleep on the sofa and finally gave up.

The next day they decided to send her home and we were so excited. Before we were even half-way there she grabbed her belly with a panicked expression on her face. One look at her was enough. I wordlessly turned the car around and drove straight back to the hospital hoping I would get her back in time to stop the labour. It turned out to be a false alarm, this time it really had only been practice contractions, but we were both so frightened and insecure. Sharon was beginning to question her own instincts, crying into my shoulder as we debated whether to try again to go home. Seeing her come apart like that, doubting herself almost broke my heart.

In the end, caution won out and she stayed at the hospital for another night while I went to sleep at my old house because. I told myself because it was closer to the hospital, but I couldn't face another night at the apartment without Sharon.

My place was cold and deserted. I hadn't spent a night there in months, not since before we found out about the pregnancy. I hadn't even been there during the past few weeks. I sat in my favourite chair trying to doze off, lay in my bed, but it was bleak. In the early hours of the morning, I sneaked into Sharon's hospital room and feel asleep in the chair without her even noticing. At least she was close to now and at this point, I couldn't care less about my back. Waking up to her fingers in my hair and her whispered words of love was surely worth the little discomfort.

She was discharged again later that afternoon – only for history to repeat itself. Her arms around her belly, the pain-filled frightened expression on her face. I pulled the car over and put my hand on her back while she breathed heavily. We exchanged a look after the contraction had passed and were on our way back to the hospital. I didn't care whether this was another false alarm. My wife was in pain and she was scared. For good reason, because this time she really was in labour. Another round of medications and fearful hours followed. It was awful. She was in pain and there was nothing I could do. I felt so helpless, but she clung to me and I supported her as best as I knew. When the medicine finally worked, my tears started falling and I couldn't stop them. I felt so incredibly selfish. I buried my face in her pillow and she ran her fingers through my hair, gently soothing me until I fell asleep.

/

But hopefully all these worries, the pain and the tears are behind us now because today is the day Sharon will finally get to come home to me!

We've walked around the hospital gardens every day for the past week and she's had a few Braxton Hicks contractions - I finally learned that name – but nothing out of the ordinary. Naomi and the other doctors are confident she can go home with orders to not do anything strenuous and have plenty of rest. I can't wait to have her back, and yet, I am a bit apprehensive.

Sharon looks pretty. That is the first thing I notice upon opening the door. There is colour in her cheeks and her eyes are bright again, she looks happy and relaxed and her hair is falling over her shoulders in soft waves. The ever-present fear of the first days in hospital has faded, the strong, sure woman she is showing through again. She gives me a beautiful open smile and my knees grow weak. My wife!

"Andy, you're here!"

"Oh sweetheart, did you think I would just forget you?"

"You wouldn't!" she laughs and I bent down to wrap my arms around her and kiss her. She smells wonderful, just like I remember and the dress she is wearing feels so soft and fluffy.

When I help her into the wheelchair she looks up at me with sparkling eyes. Only two weeks ago I am sure she would have fought me tooth and nail to walk. Today she allows me to push her while cradling her belly with both arms and whispering to our little girl about her big strong daddy. I slip my hand underneath her hair while we are riding in the elevator, caressing her neck and shoulders when she relaxes into my touch. It just feels so good to touch her and see her so at peace. She continues her little story about the big strong daddy and makes me laugh. My wonderful Sharon.

I had promised myself that I would not do this, yet when she is settling into the passenger seat, I can't not ask: "Sharon, you'll tell me if anything is wrong, okay?"

"I'm nervous, too, Andy, but I've been fine for a full week. I want to go home," she says with a calm and joyful voice putting a hand on my arm just briefly.

"You have no idea how much I want to take you home, Sharon."

"You've made a mess of things and need to me clean up?" Her lips turn into an amused smile.

No way. I have actually asked the lady who cleans the apartment to come by yesterday and clean the full place from top to bottom so there wouldn't be any temptation. I've checked with Rusty, and with Emily, and then with Ricky on her favourite foods and have stocked both the refrigerator and the pantry. Before leaving this morning, I changed the sheets on the bed and the towels in the bathroom. Everything is ready for her to come home – and relax.

"I need you, sweetheart. Just you."

She gives me a sweet smile in response and closes her eyes, unconsciously rubbing her stomach. "We should go Andy. I'm ready to go home."

/

The car ride back home is uneventful and at every traffic stop, we look at each other happily. Then we are home and I open the door to the apartment to let Sharon step in. She stops almost immediately, looking around with a content sigh.

"I'm home, Andy."

"You're home, Mrs. Flynn." I wrap my arms around her and she leans back into my embrace humming when I fold my hands underneath her belly. We remain in our embrace for while, still except for the movements of our daughter, our breaths in sync. The darkness and fear of the past days recede with every breath and every little hum. It's just so good to hold her in my arms, to feel her lean against me and the weight of our daughter in my hands. I lean in to kiss her cheek and she turns with a smile catching my lips with hers, warm and tender.

"Bed or sofa?" I whisper into the kiss mindful to get her off her feet as quickly as possible.

"Bed. We've been married ten days and we haven't even slept in the same bed yet. It's about time, don't you think?" She turns around, the wide smile still on her face, her arms sneaking around my neck. God, this feels so good. How I have missed her.

/

Sharon walks ahead of me to our bedroom and I can take a better look at the dress she is wearing. The soft cashmere clings to her in all the right places emphasising every curve. Six months pregnant and more beautiful with every passing day. Despite the ordeal of the past days, our little girl has continued to grow and so has Mummy's belly. I am overcome by a wave of intense desire, desire to hold her, and feel her, to kiss her, and touch her. It's making me dizzy, an almost primal sound escaping my throat.

She looks back at me over her shoulder with an even wider smile, leaning against the doorframe of our bedroom. "You're staring."

"I am," I admit freely. "You look spectacular, Sharon."

Her reaction is adorable. She is very particular about the clothes she wears and she knows how I react to her, but there is still a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she is looking at me through her eyelashes. "You are such a charmer, Andy. But thank you. I'm glad you like the view." Boy, do I ever!

"You could find me something nice to wear, Andy. Something you like for our wedding night." You see? She knows what she's doing.

I can't move. I just stand there looking at her, wanting her so much it hurts.

"Andy? Are you okay?"

I want her. I can't even decide if I want to take her into my arms first and run my hands over her beautiful body or hide my face against the low-cut neckline or ask her to take off the dress completely. So I just stand there staring at her.

"Andy?" she says again taking a few steps towards me cupping my cheek with a cool hand.

"I want you, Sharon." I manage to croak out and she cocks her head in response.

"Then come to bed with me."

"No, I mean, I really, really want you, Sharon. So badly."

"Oh honey, I can see that. But we can't do anything about that standing here in the hallway, now can we?"

/

I don't know how long we kiss and I don't care. She is in my arms and I can feel her skin against mine, her warmth, her presence. Everything seems magnified tonight, the green of her eyes, the softness of her touch, the taste of her kisses. The longer the evening goes on the more we seem to melt into each other becoming one. Touch after touch, caress after caress, each one more tender than the last, whispered words of love in between. Everything is slow and deliberate, soft and loving. No hectic movements or fearful looks on Sharon's face as she grabs her belly. Instead, she puts her hand on mine gently placing it where I can feel the kicks of our little girl, my ring on her finger sparkling in the candlelight.

The night that followed our wedding day was full of pain and fear and insecurity, but none of that is here now. There is love and tenderness and a deep sense of belonging. The candles on the bedside table slowly burn down until they extinguish and the night takes over. Everything is quiet except for the sound of our breathing and Sharon's hums as I thread my fingers through her hair and start massaging her scalp.

"Oh Andy, I've missed you", she whispers drowsily about to fall asleep.

"I've missed you, too. This bed has been so empty without you. God, I am so glad you are finally home again. I can't even sleep without you anymore."

"I don't sleep well without you either," she confesses with a sigh and turns around to face me. Wordlessly, she presses her lips against mine, so soft and warm. We've done that before, fallen asleep with our lips touching, breaths mingling. She moulds herself against my side, her hand drawing lazy circles on my stomach. I can feel her tongue slide along my lips with a distinct hum and open my mouth revelling in being with her, in finally holding her in my arms again.

We don't break the kiss and what has started out soft and tender slowly turns into heat and intensity that makes me gasp for air. God, we haven't kissed like that in weeks! I can feel her hands on my body, insistent and intense, showing no intention of slowing down. A groan escapes my throat as I pull her against me, deepening the kiss and being rewarded with a louder moan from her. Sharon. I want her and I don't know where to put my hands. My control is starting to slip when she suddenly pulls away from me, breathing heavily.

"Uh, Andy. We need to stop." I hear her muffled voice and then a few amused giggles. "Gosh, Andy."

I can make out her features in the dark room, but not enough to read them. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Did I do something to make you feel uncomfortable?" I ask still catching my breath, concerned and confused at the same time.

"No, Andy, not at all! If anything, I'm a little too comfortable." Sharon's giggles turn into laughter confusing me even more when she cups my face and runs her thumb over my lips.

"Kissing you like that, being with you…" she stops, seemingly lost for words and then she moves back into my arms hiding her face against my neck, lips moving against my skin. "I want you so much, but it's all a bit much for my belly. I'm sorry, Andy, I didn't mean to lead you on."

Her admission melts something in me. I play with her hair trying to reassure her as much as myself. "You did nothing of the kind. I'm sorry you're in pain, honey."

"No, no, I'm not in pain. It's already calmed down. I didn't think a little good night kiss could be so intense." She giggles and places a few wet kisses against the skin of my neck. "I guess I got a bit carried away."

Now it's my turn to laugh and I cup her jaw so I can look into her face. "I love when you get carried away, Sharon. You are one very sexy woman."

"With my big belly?"

"Particularly with your big belly." I confirm and kiss the top of her head. "Why else would I have such a hard time keeping my hands off you?"

"I'm sorry for leading you on," she whispers so quietly I can barely hear.

"Sweetheart, I want you just as much. You weren't leading me on, I went along more than willingly."

We grow quiet after that, letting our breathing return to normal, soothing each other with soft caresses. I can feel her lips against my neck, kissing and nibbling and slowly making their way up to my jaw and then my face. Her green eyes are looking at me intently and when I smile she leans down to kiss me tentatively. I'm enjoying the closeness and her taste but before the kiss can grow heated she flops on her back with a frustrated sigh.

"Maybe we should see the humour in this. Doesn't this remind you of being teenagers all over again? Making out but never quite going all the way?"

I'm rewarded with one of her beautiful laughs. "That's us, old enough to be grandparents yet making out like teenagers. At least we won't need to worry about getting me pregnant, hm?"

Now it's my turn to laugh. That really sounds like us, and I like us. A lot.

"I wish I could make love to you, Andy."

"So do I, sweetheart, so do I." I lean over to press a chaste kiss on the side of her mouth.

"We will make love again, but first, our little girl needs a few more months with her Momma."


	17. Flour and Flowers

Rusty has announced his visit for dinner today and he has requested that Andy cooks. He stressed that he didn't want to have take-away, but a home-cooked meal and that he wanted to help Andy prepare it. I still think it's hilarious that my fast food-loving son wants learn how to cook. I am so curious what, or more specifically who, might be behind this sudden interest. I've asked but I could literally hear his eyeroll through the phone, so I've left it at that. Heaven knows I have tried to get him away from fast food, but I suppose my cooking isn't really much to write home about and next to Andy's wonderful Italian meals I really do not have much to offer.

What I can however offer is a long list of weird and ever changing cravings and this week it's capers. Capers and tuna. I've been begging Andy to make pizza for us, and this morning I even offered to make the dough while he was out doing our weekly shopping, but he just pulled me into his chest with an amused laugh.

"Don't get me wrong, sweetheart, you are an amazing woman and I love you dearly, but kneading dough? You just don't have the strength for it!"

"Not like I can't use a mixer."

"Sweetheart, my grandmother would turn in her grave knowing I married a woman who even considers using an electric mixer for pizza dough!"

"You knew that when you married me."

"Of course, but then I didn't exactly marry you for your cooking skills."

"You didn't?"

"Nope," he smiles and drops a kiss on my forehead. "I married you for your lack of cooking skills so I can impress you with mine. I know how much you like your men covered in flour."

/

Rusty had decided to move into a dorm on campus. I could tell he was looking forward to it but could also sense the hesitation. With the exception of the nights at Provenza's place before testifying against Philipp Straw and the occasional night at a friend's house since, Rusty and I have spent every night under the same roof. He was finding it difficult to imagine being somewhere else for a longer period of time. What really surprised me was that he had not only talked to Ricky about this, but that Ricky had invited him to spend a few days in Palo Alto and even bought him the ticket. Now, this clearly was the son I had raised.

Of course Andy had picked up on my somewhat sombre mood at the time. That was before we were dating, although I guess we never really dated. Maybe for the few weeks it took from our first kiss to conceiving our daughter. You don't date once you're expecting a child together. At least I don't.

We were going out together for dinner more nights of the week than not, spending pretty much all our free time together. Andy knows an unbelievable amount of small cosy restaurants and secluded little beachside cafés. We sat for hours, sometimes we talked and other times we enjoyed each other's company in silence. Our knees would meet under the table and I would get lost in his eyes. I would put my hand on his arm and it would linger there all night until one day, he took it and brought it to his lips for a kiss. We held hands under the table for the rest of the evening, smiling furiously. The way Andy looked at me excited me beyond words.

I knew we were moving into murky territory. My feelings for my lieutenant had long since left the save realm of friendship. Oh, we were friends, close friends and confidantes, but I felt far more. The way my heart fluttered when he touched me or looked at me, the dreams I had just before falling asleep. We might have been keeping up appearances, but I knew that I had fallen for Andy Flynn. Fallen hard.

For the first time in years, I was in love. I just really wasn't sure if I wanted to risk our friendship to follow my feelings. We were comfortable the way we were. That in and of itself was actually quite a miracle. I found myself drawn to him with the same force that his antagonism had used to repel me. Well, that's not quite true. Even then I had thought him attractive, maybe too much so for his own good. There had always been these sparks between us, but they had been easy to ignore because I hadn't known the man behind the facade. We were friends now, such good friends. Andy seemed to get me in a way no one else ever had. He understood my work and knew the cases I'd been working on all day, knew when something was weighing heavily on my mind. We talked about our children a lot, too, and I had gotten to know Nicole rather well. After he had cleared up the initial misunderstanding with his family, I had gone to many dinners with him as _his friend Sharon_. But maybe, just maybe there was the chance to become more than that?

It was a warm summer evening and we had walked along the seashore barefoot, shoulders touching, hands brushing against each other. Over dinner I excitedly told Andy about Ricky's invitation.

"The big question is, how are you going to fare all by yourself?" he had asked me with genuine concern.

I hadn't even thought about that yet. It had been so long that I had stayed at my apartment alone. Truth be told, it wasn't only Rusty who was a bit apprehensive. My youngest one was leaving the nest and I felt reluctant to let him go.

My unhappiness must have shown on my face, because Andy's voice became soft as his fingers grazed over mine, "You sure look like you could use some company on Friday night, you shouldn't be alone brooding. Let me come over and cook you that pasta dinner I still owe you."

"I would like that, Andy." I said with a happy smile.

Only then did I realise the implications. We would be alone. I wouldn't have the convenient excuse of having to go home to Rusty. We would be alone, no obligations and a whole weekend in front of us. The prospect excited and scared me at the same time. My stomach contracted in nervous anticipation and my hands suddenly felt clammy. Andy surrounded them with his warm ones and smiled back at me.

/

Andy is particular in the kitchen. He lets me watch, but he doesn't really like it when I "help". Sometimes I wrap my arms around him and lean against his back as he works. When he's kneading dough though, his movements are strong and forceful so I know to keep my distance. I sit at the counter as he is pouring out the flour, covering everything in the vicinity with a white dusting. He looks good in his old jeans and tight white shirt. I do so enjoy looking at him, the expression of concentration on his face, the play of his muscles under the shirt, his strong hands working the dough, the tight jeans. Well, being pregnant certainly doesn't mean I can't appreciate my husband's a very attractive man and I hum happily.

"Are you enjoying yourself there, Sharon?" Andy asks with a smirk.

I nod and smile at him.

"You are staring."

I nod again.

"And you've grown strangely silent."

I nod for a third time.

And then finally he reacts. He walks over to me and puts both his hands around my face, kissing me forcefully. "You can't just sit there and undress me with your eyes and be all quiet."

"Not quiet, enjoying the view." I mumble into his mouth and he starts running his hands through my hair and over my body, getting flour everywhere.

"Andy," I try to protest. "Your hands."

"You like my hands, sweetheart. Don't tell you weren't remembering!" Of course I was, how could I not? Andy wraps his arms tightly around me as he deepens our kiss.

/

Come Friday I dropped Rusty off at the airport during lunch. Andy sent me a sweet little message telling me to hang in there and that we was looking forward to our dinner. My heart skipped a beat and Rusty looked at me with concern.

"Is everything okay Sharon? Do you have a case? You don't need to wait with me until my flight is called."

"No case, Rusty," I assured him turning my full attention back to him.

"Then why else is Lieutenant Flynn texting you during your lunch break? You're headed back to the office, aren't you?"

That awful habit of Rusty's of always looking over at the screen of my mobile. I made a mental note to have a little lecture on the right to privacy with him as soon as he was back. I felt myself blushing, but forced myself to remain calm. Rusty knew I went out for dinner with Andy often, so this was nothing new. My own apprehension and excitement about our evening was clearly getting the better of me.

"Just confirming dinner tonight," I said casually.

"You know, I could just text instead of call when I meet up with Ricky. I don't want to interrupt anything."

"A phone call from my sons hardly qualifies as an interruption to a dinner between friends." I stressed the friends part for my benefit as much as for Rusty's.

Rusty just laughed and I was pretty sure he and Ricky might ask me some questions later. Ricky might not be above sharing his concerns about my "lonely heart" with Rusty now that the boys seemed to be getting so well. If only they knew! My heart was beating fast at the thought of having dinner with Andy, alone, at my apartment.

/

Friday night came and with it Andy. He stood in my hallway, grocery bags in one arm, a large bouquet of flowers in the other looking so handsome with that boyish smile on his face. I took the bags from him and he chided me gently, giving me the flowers instead. I hid my face among the blossoms and took a deep breath to collect myself. His lips on my cheek burned. Alone. Just us. He smelled delicious. Why did he have to smell so good and then come so close to me? Later Andy told me that he had been nervous as well, that he had looked forward to a potential weekend together while wondering about my feelings for him. He had never brought me flowers before. For a long moment we stood there, too close for friends, not close enough for lovers, and I felt myself drowning in the depth of his eyes. Andy was here. A million possibilities and scenarios were running through my mind. There was so much that could happen tonight, we could become so much more than what we were now. It threatened to overwhelm me.

Andy poured me a glass of wine and methodically set about preparing his grandmother's famous homemade pasta. He chopped vegetables and started a sauce that was already filling my kitchen with a heavenly smell while I sat at the counter sipping my wine, content to watch him.

"Have you heard from your boys yet?" he inquired knowing a part of my mind wouldn't be here as long as I hadn't heard from them.

"Rusty should be landing in about half an hour. I made him promise to call me as soon as he's with Ricky."

"Of course you did."

I smiled self-consciously. They might both be grown, but they were still my children.

"He didn't argue."

"Which just goes to show how well he knows you."

"Am I really that bad?"

"Oh Sharon, no. Not at all. It's just that it's hard to turn you down when you ask so nicely."

I wondered why he said that. Andy couldn't know about our earlier exchange at the airport. He was probably not talking about Rusty at all. Was he trying to tell me something else? Should I ask him? He had brought me flowers, after all. Did I want to ask him? Did I want him? Of course I did, but did I want to risk our friendship?

Meanwhile, Andy had moved on to preparing the pasta and was pouring a generous amount of flour onto my pristine countertops, a white cloud rising around him.

"You're getting flour all over my kitchen!" I complained grateful to have something else to focus on.

"It's a kitchen, Sharon. It's meant to be used."

I took a rather large gulp of my wine to steady myself before leaving my safe position at the counter and stand next to him.

"Look at you, you're covered, too," I said softly and reached out to wipe flour from his cheek. I stopped short in my tracks when I got a whiff of him. God, how could one man smell so good. This should be illegal. Particularly if he is _my_ Lieutenant, standing in _my_ kitchen entirely too attractive in his white dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves, looking at _my _lips like he wants to kiss me.

Like he wants to kiss me? There I was, my hand still on his warm cheek, stubble under my palm. Andy had closed his eyes and leaned into my touch with a sigh. It was so sweet, so heartwarming. Oh Andy. I think it was this gesture, the sound of that little sigh, that gave me the courage to run my other hand through his hair, touching him in a way I had longed to do for so long. His hair felt so soft and he gave another small sigh. Encouraged, I stepped a little closer and ran my hand over his neck and shoulders. He felt warm and solid, the shirt crisp under my touch. I could see his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed and leaned in to place a kiss against his neck. Andy shuddered under my touch. I kissed the same spot again and then looked up into his serene face. His fingers closed around my hand and he bent his head to place a small kiss on the inside of my wrist. It was my turn to shiver. It took me a moment to understand that the moan I heard was my own. Oh my!

I brought up my free hand to cup his face, my fingers tracing the outline of his face, his jaw, his eyebrows, his soft lips that curled into a smile under my touch. When I let my finger linger, he bestowed a gentle kiss upon it, sending a tingling sensation all through my body. His eyes were still closed, but suddenly I needed to see them. I needed to see what was inside them, I needed to be reassured I wasn't just imagining all this.

"Andy," my voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Open your eyes."

He opened them slowly and gazed at me with such tenderness, I almost forgot to breathe. I was flustered and I stuttered, almost unable to bring out the words.

"May I kiss you?"

Oh no. Did I really just ask him? Out loud? Who does that? I sounded like someone from an eighteenth century English novel.

There was a hint of amusement in Andy's eyes, but mostly still the same tenderness and warmth. Wordlessly, he wrapped his free arm around me and pulled me against him. I took a deep breath and closed what little distance remained between us.

Our first kiss was tentative, a brush of lips that was so soft, it would have felt unreal except for Andy's growl and the way his arm tightened around me. I kissed him again running my tongue over his lips and he cupped the back of my head with his free hand holding me in place, firm yet gentle. It felt right, it fit. The feeling of his strong hard body against mine, his arms around me, the taste I had so long spent imagining. What had started as a gentle fluttering in my stomach turned into a bright fire that was burning through my whole body. Andy. All I could think was his name and how I could have waited so long for this moment.

/

"Why is there flour in your hair?" Rusty observes with a curious look over dinner and Andy reaches out to wipe away what remains of our little moment earlier on, giving me a secretive little smile.

"Your mom helped me make the dough."

"I didn't know she even knew how to make pizza."

"I'm teaching her," Andy cups my face and looks at me lovingly. "She likes playing around with flour and getting all messy."

I'm happy and relaxed. I've had several large slices of pizza with lots of capers and am comfortably full and tired. Our little girl is sleeping. Rusty is here, Andy is here. What more could I want but this? Without thinking much, I reach out to wipe some flour out of Andy's hair and kiss him. "And I thought you were the one who enjoyed messing around with flour."

"Okay, that's way too much information you guys. I am never eating pizza with you again!"


	18. Angel Gabriel

Sharon doesn't tease, not if she isn't prepared to deliver. But then Sharon is sometimes so completely and rather adorably unaware of just how alluring she is to me. Even being six and half months pregnant, particularly being so beautifully, so visibly pregnant. I have very vivid dreams of her and when I wake up in the mornings she is here, next to me, warm and smelling of sleep, stretching and turning around to look at me through heavy-lidded eyes moaning rather than talking. I know the stretching and moaning is on account of her sore back, but it still drives me crazy.

"You are a wonderful husband to still find that old, fat wife of yours exciting," she whispers into my ear with an amused chuckle.

"Don't talk like that about yourself, sweetheart. Believe me, it's a good thing Gabriel here still wears his blindfold, or even he'd be tempted."

"Andy!" she huffs, but then laughs at my wildly inappropriate joke and points to the ever-faithful angel Gabriel sitting on the windowsill with the blindfold still firmly in place. "You _do _know I never believed it was Rusty who put him there?"

/

I remember Ricky and Emily coming in from the airport and walking straight up to the Christmas tree looking at that angel sitting on top.

"It's Gabriel", they whispered and elbowed each other in the side, giggling. "Can you believe she's put Gabriel up there?"

I was still a little stunned because Emily and Sharon share an uncanny semblance in both physical appearance and mannerisms, except that Emily is a lot shorter. As much as Ricky towers over Sharon, Sharon towers over her daughter. Emily comes after her grandmother Caitlin, but I hadn't yet met Caitlin then. Other than that, she is like a younger, bubblier version of Sharon, but I still saw only Sharon in her. So I was completely unprepared when she walked up to me poking me in the chest with her finger.

"You, Andrew Flynn, what have _you_ got to say for yourself? My mother must really like you!"

But I was in for a bigger surprise when she proceeded to turn on her heel with a flourish worthy of Gavin. Linking her arm through Ricky's, she approached her mother with the same poking gesture:

"Gabriel? Seriously Mum? Is he, " she indicated me with a movement of her head "really _that _good?"

My dear Sharon blushed furiously, but she didn't tell her daughter off. Not yet, anyway.

Her kids surely are a force of nature. I know them vaguely from way back when they were small and I've met Ricky a few times, but Emily I hadn't seen in years. She hadn't been around when Sharon and I had sat down with Nicole, Rusty and Ricky to tell them about our relationship. How I had admired her cheekiness in telling them about our relationship when really she was already a few weeks pregnant. "One thing at a time, Andy," she had said to me then. "Let's break them in gently. It's not every day your old mother divorces your father, adopts a child, finds the love her life and expects a baby all within the space of a few months." She had called _me_ the love of her life. I could have screamed with happiness.

Gabriel kept coming up throughout the first two days, Emily or Ricky casually dropping him into conversations with their mother.

"Mum, Gabriel is back!"

"I thought the adoption was still pending – so why is Gabriel already up there?"

"Em, you're the girl, you're supposed to have all these heart to heart's with Mum. So, what has happened? New boyfriend?"

And of course Emily's infamous line with that sideways look at me: "Is he really _that_ good?"

Initially, Rusty seemed just as lost as I was, but then he started laughing and looking at me strangely. I could see how much Sharon enjoyed having them all around, loved seeing them interact like siblings, all three them. She was positively glowing in their presence and attention – and those incessant Gabriel jokes merely brought forth a smile. Except for Emily's line, which continued to make her blush. During dinner of our second evening together Sharon finally put her foot down.

"Emily, enough now. You have had your mileage out of whatever you think is going on and from now on, I'll expect you to treat both Andy and myself with respect. Are we clear?"

Apparently they were. Emily had been relentless and I don't think Sharon would have put up with that much teasing from anyone else, but Emily also knew when she had reached the end of her mother's patience.

I had asked Sharon the first evening already what was so special about Gabriel. It was a secret, she had said. When Rusty joined in the jokes I asked her again and she suggested I go put my detective skills to work and talk to the kids. Naturally, they gave up nothing except for more comments on how special I must be for their mum. It intrigued me. I certainly hoped I was special to Sharon seeing as she had quickly become the centre of my world. I just didn't see the connection to the angel.

The days with the kids were full and busy and joyful. It was cramped with Emily staying in Rusty's room and the boys camping out in the living room, but I was so glad Sharon had turned down my offer of going back to my own place over the holidays.

/

The three kids had decided to go out for a night on the town so it was just the two of us. It was nice to have some time alone, to talk about our baby without anyone listening in. Sharon was thirteen weeks pregnant now and while she was usually the one to tell me all the little facts about our baby's development, there was one thing I had read that had made me smile.

"Did you know that our little one has fingerprints now?" I asked her and pulled the covers over us.

Sharon had been in the processes of fluffing up the pillows but stopped, beaming with her hands on her little bump.

"I love that you know that, Andy! Did you hear that? You have fingerprints now, my little one. Daddy can track you down now if you break the rules."

"Geez, sweetheart, thirteen weeks and you are already pulling out the rulebook on our little one." I leaned in to kiss her and pulled her into my lap, my hand coming to rest over hers on her stomach. "So could your Mommy and let me tell you, she's much more strict than Daddy."

"But I hear your Daddy is far more experienced with handcuffs," Sharon quipped leaning back into my embrace.

I laughed feeling very sure of myself. "That's because Mummy has been telling people like Daddy off rather than catching the real criminals."

"Your Daddy has a bit of a history of handcuffing uninvolved civilians and throwing away the keys."

I froze. I had set myself up for that. I had walked right into it. "How do you even remember that?"

"You forget that I remember everything. Everything, Andy, even events a lot less memorable than this one."

"Sharon, please don't. Please never tell our little one about that. I would die of shame."

She made me blush. That had been one of the more memorable incidents of my career and one of the few times in front of her desk where I had actually been embarrassed. I had just had a major run-in with Lieutenant Raydor who had sent me on a month-long sensitivity training and insisted I own up to my drinking problem. She had driven me crazy with her aloofness and insistence on the rules. I had gone to a bar, gotten drunk, picked up this girl with long auburn hair and green eyes. I don't remember why it seemed like a good idea at the time to handcuff her to her bed and flush the keys down the toilet. Lieutenant Raydor decided to pursue a use of force investigation. I got called into her office and if the whole thing hadn't been embarrassing enough already, she then pulled out a photograph of the girl and wordlessly raised her eyebrow at me.

"You should be embarrassed, that was disgrace. But don't worry, Andy. My lips are sealed. I want our little one to respect her father. You earned yourself a place in another FID top ten that evening though."

"There is an FID top ten?"

"Lots of categories and many are graced by your name, I might add."

"Was I really that bad?"

"Are you kidding me? It's only fair that you'll have to look after me in my old age when all those long nights of cleaning up your messes will finally catch up with me."

/

Christmas morning we woke up to voices outside the bedroom door, laughing as something large was moved around and something dropped to the floor.

"Do you have any idea what they're up to?" I asked the usually so house-proud Sharon who seemed remarkably calm in the face of the sound of muffled expletives in Ricky's distinctive voice.

"They're always up to something. As long as Rusty is with them I know they aren't going to burn down the place."

"And that's enough for you?"

"Oh, absolutely," she responded sounding so relaxed, she didn't even flinch at the loud thumping noise from outside.

"How do you think they'll react when they hear about their little sibling?"

"Well, you've met Emily now and you know she carries her heart on her sleeve. I think you might be in for a grilling as to your intentions from Ricky, so you better prepare yourself."

"My intentions, sweetheart, are perfectly clear. I have asked you for a divorce and we'll take it from there."

"Gosh, the romance, Andy. You do realise I filed months before we ever happened?

/

I watched Sharon and her children. The bond between them was so obvious. They shared such love and trust. More often than not I found myself dreaming of what she would be like with our child. Our child that was still our little secret. Nobody seemed to notice the absence of the customary bottle of white wine in the fridge. They all know I'm a recovering alcoholic, Rusty is underage anyway and Emily is only break for a few days before going back to work. Ricky had the occasional beer Sharon had been sure to put on my ever increasing shopping list. All of our children have a parent with addictions. I don't think Rusty would go for the drug that destroyed his mother, much like Ricky and Emily who'd had the bad example of Jack and my kids who had or more precisely didn't have me growing up.

Sharon is really quite the matriarch. She organised her three grown children around the dinner table with practised ease, listened to their stories, gently coaxing Rusty to contribute his share and then there was her hand resting softly on her abdomen. Our eyes would meet and she would smile or put a finger to her lips when no one else was looking. In the evenings, when the whole family sat around the Christmas tree and talked, she would cuddle up in my arms, take my hands and rest them on her stomach. I could feel the little bump still hidden under the fabric of her dress. If I hadn't already been hopelessly in love with her, I would have been after the Christmas days.

/

We decided to tell everyone on the Second Day of Christmas when Nicole and her family would be joining us for lunch. The reaction was hilarious and certainly more than I had bargained for.

I started off quite cheerfully: "Sharon and I have something we'd like to tell you kids."

„You are going to get married? Oh, how sweet, congratulations!" that was Nicole.

„Hang on, they can't be getting married. Mum's still married. Aren't you, Mum?" Ricky followed up quickly.

Emily chimed in „Oh my God, I knew it! Jack finally signed the papers. Congratulations, Mum, I am so happy for you."

„I don't think so," Rusty volunteered thoughtfully. "They are not divorced. Jack called me the other day fishing for information."

„I can't believe he is calling you now, Rusty. I guess even little brother Ricky here has finally stopped listening to him. So now he goes for the youngest one!"

„Children, stop!" Sharon tried. "I am sitting right here with you, and so is Andy. Please, be kind, and respectful. Andy and I have something important that we want to tell you. Now, I would like you all to listen."

I am still amazed how someone as measured and calm as Sharon can have such exuberant children. Ironically, Rusty seems to be the one most like her. He's the one who watches and listens first, while the other two seem to just jump right in. I wish I'd asked her out all these years ago when she was still busting my balls on a regular basis. I would have been so curious to see how she handled her children.

Sharon's request for kindness clearly hadn't worked as Emily and Nicole started throwing out assumptions about the more personal aspects of our relationship and the relevance of Gabriel. Good heavens, how had Nic caught on so quickly? I felt myself growing angry with my daughter. She had no business talking about Sharon like that and it seemed like Emily, too, had completely forgotten Sharon's warning from a few nights ago.

But Sharon was my first priority now. She had become more sensitive with the pregnancy and she was blushing furiously. I pulled her into my arms and she came willingly, resting her head against my shoulder. "Where's that Darth Raydor glare when you need it, sweetheart?" But Darth Raydor wasn't on duty tonight, it was just Sharon. Hormonal, blushing, pregnant Sharon who rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes and who melted into me with a little hum when I pulled her into my arms.

"Children!" I used her earlier expression and felt her lifting her head from my shoulder. She straightened her posture and managed to produce a little glare.

"Andy and I are expecting a baby."

There was total silence. All of them were quiet. Silence, for a moment only until Emily burst out laughing.

"Well, that certainly explains Gabriel! Good grief, mum, you are such a Catholic! Gabriel, the angel of announcement."

I realised that there were layers to this family I was only beginning to discover when Sharon bent over laughing hard.

"Oh Emily, you rotten child! I hadn't even seen that yet," she said wiping away tears of laughter.

All hell broke loose. They wanted to know everything at once and why and how and when. It was impressive how all of them were playing the questions off each other, Rusty and Ricky had become quite the pair, but what floored me were the interactions between Emily and Nicole. They had only just met and were already getting along like a house on fire. They had us crying with laughter in no time. Sharon did the only right thing in the end and turned them on to a conversation on ballet and afterwards they retreated into their own little world of leotards and pointe shoes and what not.

Everyone calmed down eventually. They all seemed to be genuinely excited at the news if a little shocked. Sharon and I were happy and relieved that they had all taken the news well.

Sharon was happy. She was sitting on the sofa sipping a mug of hot chocolate while the boys were cleaning up the kitchen and the girls talking ballet. I was playing with my grandsons on the floor leaning against her legs. When she ran a hand through my hair I turned back and for a moment I imagined her with our baby in her arms, a toddler on her lap and all our Christmases to come.

/

When we were settled in bed that night Sharon was busy eating chocolate-coated nuts she had sent me out to get earlier. Of course, Sharon wouldn't fancy just any kind of nuts. They had to come from a particular hole-in-the-wall French place that required a drive all across town. Her happy face had been worth it though and now she was curled into me happily eating her nuts and giving me chocolate flavoured kisses. I was so glad that she didn't crave that horrible garlic salami anymore, I had had such a hard time kissing her then.

"Tell me about Gabriel."

"He is the angel of announcement, the one who brought Mary the joyful news of her pregnancy," she explained between two bites.

"Honey, I wasn't looking for a catechism class. What's the history with your angel Gabriel?"

"Oh yes, I should tell you now, shouldn't I? Didn't the children tell you anything, great detective?"

"Only that I must be special to you."

"Oh Andy, you are. You are very special to me. Gabriel is just one of these traditions the children and I have. It was the year when Jack decided to leave only a week before Christmas. It was awful, everything came tumbling down within a matter of hours. He left, the children were missing their father and crying, Emily had twisted her ankle in rehearsals and couldn't dance in the Christmas performance. I had to work late because some idiot officers had gotten drunk at a bar and ended the night with massive bar brawl."

Sharon stopped and looked at me with a smirk. "I don't think you were involved that time round, but Provenza might have been. Anyway, I was sitting in my living room the Sunday before Christmas with a half decorated tree, a sulking Emily in the corner and Ricky poking fun at her. Somehow, I ended up telling the children a story to cheer them up. It involved playing with puppets and the angels just happened to be there. I told them about the angel Gabriel and we decided that he would announce better times for us, that … that their father would come back. That never really worked. But Gabriel has been on the tip of our Christmas tree whenever something good has happened. When Emily got into ABT, when she landed her first lead, when Ricky got his scholarship. When he first fell in love and got his first kiss – it didn't last, but it happened just before Christmas and he was so excited so Emily and I decided to indulge him. When I made Lieutenant and then Captain. Believe me, Gabriel was the one and only choice for this year with Rusty, and you and our baby. I just forgot about the original significance of the angel Gabriel for a moment."

"You realise that's the first thing they did – Ricky and Emily? They walked up to the tree, checked the angel and started whispering."

"They've been doing that every year since they moved out. I've even taken Gabriel or one of his friends to Park City a few times."

I loved all the little Christmas traditions in her house, the opulent decorations and the meanings behind them. I was almost a bit jealous that she already had all these traditions. Where would our child and I fit in?

"Andy, you are part of this family now. This is your tradition now too and we can add our own," she said as if she had been reading my mind.

"Like eating chocolate in bed?" I pulled her against me and gave her a long kiss. "I already have an idea, but I think it might need to wait a few days."

"Tell me?"

"I want to make love to you under the Christmas tree."

"God, Andy!" she was clearly scandalised. "Gabriel would see us!"

"I can blindfold him. But _I_ am going to climb up and blindfold him and _you_ can watch, monkey girl."

/

Taking the ornaments off the tree has always been a bit of a special tradition for me so on Epiphany Rusty and I got to work closely observed by Sharon who insisted she was perfectly capable of helping us. It turned out that Rusty didn't like the idea of Sharon climbing ladders any more than I did, so she had sat on the floor complaining light-heartedly while boxing everything up as meticulously as only Sharon could.

When we went to bed that night, Gabriel had found a new home.

"You really think our bedroom is an appropriate place for Gabriel?"

"I'm expecting a lot of good things to happen here, sweetheart."


	19. Don't send me away

A few weeks ago I thought that not being allowed to work and having to go on maternity leave early was a major change. Now, just being able to stay at home with Andy instead of in the hospital seems like such a blessing.

I had expected Andy to complain about his new position, but he hasn't, not once. It does have some advantages for us, next to me knowing he will be coming home at night and I won't get that dreaded phone call. He has almost regular work hours now and he hardly ever gets called out to a crime scene in the middle of the night. I am not sure how much of that has to do with his actual new job. I tend to think it's more the Lieutenant's way of supporting us. He is only calling on Andy if it is absolutely necessary. It gives us quiet nights and the opportunity to wake up in each other's arms in the morning. Well, I'm the one who wakes up in Andy's arms. I am so grateful to Louie for bending the rules just a little bit to give me and my husband time together. I could, I would never have asked him to do that and he has never said anything to me officially, but it's a gesture of support I appreciate so much.

/

It is becoming ever more difficult for me to find a comfortable sleeping position and I frequently wake Andy up these days. He never seems to mind, giving me space to move until I find a position I'm comfortable in, helping me slide a pillow under my stomach and when I'm finally done, he places a kiss on my belly and then on my lips before curling himself around me. Warm and gentle, always at my side. I have offered to sleep in Rusty's room but he just looked at me as though I had gone crazy.

"Sweetheart, I am not going to send my pregnant wife out of our marital bed into the kid's room."

"But I keep waking you up."

"Because you're carrying our child. I can't sleep without you in my arms. The days you were away in hospital, I got a lot less sleep than now even with you tossing and turning. Really, I just wish there was something I could do to make this easier for you."

"You're here. That's all I need."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else. Now, go back to sleep, my love."

/

Andy and I have breakfast together every morning before he leaves and initially, he came home for lunch, but then letting him go again was so hard for me and I think it was equally difficult for him. Most days we talk for a few minutes on the phone over lunch. It's not like we have a lot of information to exchange, but I like to hear his voice and Andy likes to know all the little details about my day, what I'm having for lunch, how many times our girl has kicked me, whether there's anything in particular I fancy for dinner. There usually is. I do offer to cook, but apparently my inability to make pizza dough extends to other tasks around food preparation as well. I would be upset if I didn't know it was Andy's way of making sure that I don't overexert myself. Now, I could certainly cook a meal, but I do not want him to worry and I do enjoy his cooking a lot more than my own.

Most afternoons, he is home early enough to take me out for a walk. We go to the beach, but that's mostly on weekends because it is quite a distance to drive. More often we go to a nearby park and enjoy the fresh air and the sound of birds chirping. Our walks don't cover much distance and we move slowly, but I'm outside and walking along on Andy's arm is something I really like. We get looks. We are just so obviously too old to be expecting a child and I haven't really put on much weight other than around my middle. Much like in my other pregnancies. It's just that this time I have started showing so much earlier and my stomach seems that much larger. But maybe that's just my memory deceiving me. Still, when people see me now, my pregnancy is obvious. With some of the looks I get I would say it's painfully obvious, but Andy chides me. He says I'm beautiful and when he looks at me, I do feel so beautiful. It's remarkable, the self-confidence he gives me. With his arm around me, I don't care how people look at me.

I am so looking forward to being a mum again. Our little girl is getting bigger and stronger every day. Every day. All I have to do is be calm, and relaxed and don't push myself. But I also know she is still so small and despite what medicine can do nowadays, her start in life will be so much better if I can carry her to term.

I've always liked being pregnant, even if I was mostly alone with Emily and Ricky. The joy at expecting a new life always won out over the loneliness and the uncertainty of living with Jack. With Andy, there is no loneliness and no uncertainty. We know what we want, and I have no doubt about his feelings for me. This time, the uncertainty stems from the pregnancy itself. Being pregnant was something I accommodated into my life back with Ricky and Emily. I had a full time job, a toddler, an absent husband. I might have been tired and my back might have hurt, but I pushed through. The pregnancies weren't hard on my body, I liked carrying a child at least once the morning sickness had subsided, my belly grew, I gave birth, I became a mum. I almost took it for granted to have two healthy children. I took a short maternity leave and then went back to work full time supporting my children and myself. Not that it was always easy, but I think I did well. Now my life revolves around this pregnancy. Whatever I do, I do it with our daughter and her safety in mind. I've started listening to my body very closely intent on spotting any signs of danger. It's exhausting in and of itself. I lack the energy of my younger years and my body is tired, but I am already more than halfway there and if I need to stay at home for the rest of the pregnancy, then that is what I'll do.

/

Since we've gotten married Andy and I have become quite attached to each other. Now, I would like to say that was because we got married, but we both know it's because of those frightful days in hospital that followed our wedding. When Andy is here, we spend most of the time touching in some form. Lying in bed together, snuggling up on the couch, sitting out on the balcony, even when we eat we always hold hands.

My favourite place is between Andy's legs leaning back into his chest, his arms around me. I feel safe. It's like being in a cocoon of warmth and Andy's familiar smell, his chest falling and rising with every breath, that same breath warm and humid against my face. He likes to lift up my top so he can see the kicks of our girl against my skin. It has always fascinated me to see how much an unborn child moves, even when it is still so small. The little body is stretching, arms and legs kicking and practicing for a life independent of me. It touches my heart and even more so when Andy can watch it for hours. My Emily, she too was mesmerised by the movements of her baby brother. She would kiss my stomach and rest her little hands on it and whenever Ricky kicked she giggled happily.

/

Today, even the barstools are too far away from Andy making our dinner. So I do stand right next to him, leaning against the counter for support while he is chopping vegetables to go with the nut-loaf already in the oven. He looks at me, one eyebrow raised, but I defiantly cross my arms. Truth be told, I feel so vulnerable, so raw today, I need to be close to him. I don't even know why, it's probably just hormones, but the idea of sitting on the sofa or even at the dining room table makes me want to cry. So I stand my ground and Andy wipes his hands on the tea towel and takes my face in his hands.

"I'll be done here in a minute, sweetheart, and then I'll come over and join you on the couch," he says kissing my forehead.

"Don't send me away," I say and am surprised at how tearful I sound. "You can't send me away."

Andy wraps me in his arms and holds me tight against him, tenderly running his fingers through my hair.

"I am not sending you away, honey. I promise you, I will be with you just as soon as this is done. Just go sit down."

My heart clenches painfully at the idea of even breaking our embrace and I wordlessly shake my head tightening my arms around him as much as I dare without putting too my pressure on my belly. I can feel how Andy is growing worried and he lifts my head so he can look at me, his warm eyes searching mine.

"My little monkey girl." His voice sounds so soft. "You're a bit clingy today."

I pout and try to blink away the tears in my eyes when a smile forms on his face. "I have an idea. Why don't you sit here on the countertop right next to me? Come on, honey, I'll help you up." I giggle, but before he can lift me, I stop him.

"Andy, no. I'm too heavy now. There's the step ladder in the pantry." I only realised a few days ago that he is no longer driving it around in the trunk of his car apparently having decided I am no longer likely to use it for fixing things around the apartment. The whole process is a bit ridiculous, but then I finally sit here close enough to reach out and touch him when I want to. This is better. I realise I haven't been up here in a while. It's not such a bad place, actually, especially now that Andy is done and wraps his arms around my middle placing a kiss on my belly.

"You're different today."

I sigh placing my hands on his shoulders.

"That's not how you put my mind at ease, sweetheart."

I sigh again.

"Honey, please."

"I just want you to hold me."

After dinner, Andy pulls me onto couch, settling me against his chest. I snuggle into him, determined to get as much physical contact as possible and hum contently when he slips his hands under my top and lets them rest against my belly. His hands are so warm and our daughter immediately responds to his gentle pressure. I need this tonight, I need to be in Andy's arms. Everything is fine now that I am with him. Nothing else really matters.

"Tell me," he says pressing a kiss on my cheek and I sigh again.

"I'm here to listen, my love," he gently insists.

"I'm restless and anxious. Nothing in particular, I'm just so scared something is going to go wrong."

"I know we've had some scary moments, but for now everything is fine. I understand you, you have all this time here at home to sit and think about it. Are you physically okay?"

"Uh, I guess, a bit of a headache."

"Let's have an early night tonight. Is there _anything_ I can do to make you feel better?"

"Hold me," I say and my voice is strangled, tears burning in my eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, of course. I'll hold you all night. How about a nice warm bath or a massage?"

"A foot massage would be nice."

Andy is as gentle as always when he pulls my feet into his lap. He pulls off my socks and pushes up the legs of my maternity pants. I can feel him grow tense rather than see it, it's only a minute movement. He maintains his calm exterior while running a soothing hand up and down my calf.

"Sharon, have your ankles been this swollen all day?" I can tell he is worried because he calls me Sharon. It's been sweetheart, and darling and honey all night, and now Sharon.

"They're not swollen, I'm just tired."

"Have you looked at them? Sharon, sweetheart, have a look and tell me how long this has been going on." Andy sounds really concerned now and when I see my legs, I understand why. My legs have been hidden underneath the trousers all day long, and they really are swollen, the worst I've ever seen them. Oh no. I take a deep breath.

"I don't know, Andy. My legs were fine when I got dressed this morning, you were there, they didn't look like this, did they?"

"Yeah. Listen, Sharon, I don't mean to alarm you, but with your headache and the anxiety and the swelling, I would feel more comfortable if we saw Naomi tomorrow."

I lean back with another sigh, tears stinging in my eyes and a knot in my throat. "You're right, I'll call her first thing to set up an appointment. Let's go to bed, Andy. I'm going to cry and once I'm done, I'd like to just fall asleep in your arms."

"Sharon, sweetheart, don't cry."

But it's already too late. The tears are falling before I can even say more.


	20. Butterflies

I love Sharon. So much. I love everything about her. I love her when she looks at me and tells me she loves me, I love her when she glares at me, all stern and serious. I love her when she is crying and when she makes her odd little jokes. I love her when she blushes and I love her hums. I love her strength and conviction. I love her laughter and the softness of her lips against mine, I love the way she smells when she wakes up in the mornings. I love the feeling of our daughter moving underneath my hands.

This life we have built in the space of less than a year is more than I had ever hoped for and something I cherish deeply.

Tonight does have all the ingredients for a beautiful evening. Just us. Time together. A warm and cosy bed. Candles and the faint scent of Sharon's shampoo. We are in our sanctuary and nothing taking place outside of our bedroom walls matters. It's us, the most primal of combinations, a woman, a man, our child. I've rarely had a time in my life when I would have been able to say that I was completely content, that I could hold what is most dear to me in my arms.

In the early days of her pregnancy before her belly grew too large, Sharon would lean against the headboard of our bed and pull my head into her lap, my cheek resting against our child. We hadn't even known then we were expecting a girl. She would run her fingers over my face and through my hair, slide her hands down my back telling me she loved me and how happy she was and she would make me talk about myself in that quietly insistent way of hers.

Tonight our positions are reversed. Sharon is lying in my lap, humming and smiling at me while I'm playing with her hair, my other hand on her stomach. Her eyes are clear after the tears she cried earlier. We have always been open with each other, but today I had a glimpse at my wife at her most vulnerable. She is relaxed now and I feel like we have come closer yet again. She has allowed me to see deep into her soul.

/

Sharon had been quiet and introspective during the drive home, caressing her belly with one hand while the other one rested on my knee. She had put the ultrasound pictures Naomi had given us into her purse with a large smile and I couldn't wait to get home and look at them together. It's what we always do, look at the pictures and imagine what our daughter would look like.

For the first time, Sharon had explicitly asked me to stay home with her. She hadn't said much else when we curled up in bed. She fell asleep pretty quickly and I snuck out to call Provenza. I didn't tell him all that was going on, just that Sharon wasn't feeling well and that I was taking personal days to look after her for the next few days. The old grump was genuinely concerned about her and even told me to call if we needed anything.

/

When she woke up, her mood hadn't changed much and with her face hidden against my chest, she sighed audibly.

"I've made you tell me so many things about your past, and yet I have never been quite that open with you."

Really? That was a surprise to me because we had talked about her marriage, her children, her childhood at quite some length in the past months.

"I don't feel that way, sweetheart," I said carefully. She was so raw and vulnerable still, I didn't want to hurt her.

"You wouldn't, because you don't know. Andy, I don't like talking about this, because it will probably make me cry, but you should know. Could…could you just let me talk and not interrupt me?"

I shifted a little so I could at least get a glimpse of her face and took her hand firmly in mine. "Of course, sweetheart. I will let you talk and afterwards I'll hold you and wipe away your tears. Just know that I love you and that I love our girl."

"I love you too, Andy, both of you."

I moved her hand to my lips and kissed it, finding her eyes with mine when she lifted her head. There was a look of pain and sorrow on her face and all I wanted was to take that away, too make her feel better. Haltingly, she started talking.

"Very few people actually know about this. One of my many reconciliations with Jack took place when Ricky was tiny still, we had just celebrated his first birthday. Jack stayed for quite a while, by his standards anyway. But then I was convinced that he had finally come round and we could have the life we, well I, had always wanted to have. Within six months he was gone again, our joint account cleared out leaving me with two toddlers and, as I found out a few days later, with another baby on the way. The pregnancy wasn't a surprise, Jack and I had tried to conceive and even by myself, I did want this baby. Believe me Andy, I did. Emily was having one temper tantrum after the other, missing her dad who had dropped off the face of the earth. Ricky was teething and crying through the nights and when I wasn't working or trying to console my children, I was bent over the toilet bowl with morning sickness."

I had promised her not to interrupt her, and I wouldn't. I wondered though. She had no children other than Emily, Ricky and Rusty. Had she decided not to keep this child? I didn't think that Sharon would have had an abortion, that was too unlike her. Nor would she have given a child up for adoption. She must have lost the baby, I realised with a start. I let go of her hand and put an arm around her instead, pulling her a little closer. She didn't resist leaning into me with a small sigh.

"I saw Naomi for my prenatal care, but didn't tell anyone about my pregnancy. One day, my mother showed up on my doorstep unannounced. The babysitter had let Emily talk to her grandma on the phone while I had been at work, and she had gathered that Jack must have left. I was so glad she was there. By the next day she knew I was pregnant and decided to stay with us for a few weeks."

Sharon's voice changed and became softer at the mention of her mother. She nestled her head against my neck, sighing again.

"And then, just when I thought I had it all back under control and the morning sickness was subsiding, my baby died. I went for a routine check-up with Naomi and the baby's heart had stopped beating."

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm so sorry." I said instinctively pulling her closer, and then she started crying, sobs wreaking her whole body while her anguished cries cut right through my heart. All I wanted was to take that pain away, to shield her and make her feel better. I shifted so I could see into her face, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"He said it was my fault, Andy. He went through my papers years later and told me it was my fault, that I had lost the baby on purpose. I didn't, Andy, you have to believe me. I wanted to have my baby."

Jack, that bastard. I could have killed him with my bare hands. He had married this amazing woman who had given him chance after chance, raised his children without him and he had left her and cheated on her and then blamed her for a miscarriage? While he had abandoned her? What a bastard. I could feel my jaw clench and had to make a conscious effort to open my mouth. How I hated him, how I hated that he was still causing her such pain.

I looked into her tearful eyes, willing my voice to be quiet and even. "Of course you wanted your baby, Sharon. Look at how you are fighting for our daughter, how fiercely you fought for Rusty. You have put your own life on hold for months now, you've stopped to work, stayed home, rested, all so our daughter can have the best possible start in life. I would never believe you wanted to have a miscarriage."

"But he said so."

"Jack is a troubled and spiteful bastard. Sweetheart, he wanted to hurt you, please don't give him that victory."

"What if something goes wrong with our little girl? What if I loose her? Won't you hold me responsible for that? Will you even want me after that?"

"Sharon, no. Stop thinking like that. I will never blame you and I will never, ever stop loving you. Never." I really hated him now, that he could make her doubt me, that he could…but this was not about Jack, this was about Sharon.

"You have been fighting for our little girl from the very beginning. You are a wonderful mother to her before she is even born. I will not have you blame yourself or doubt my love for you because of something that bastard said. Look at you, sweetheart. I know how difficult this pregnancy is for you, I know your back hurts and you are uncomfortable and can't sleep. Yet I have never heard you complain. You are doing everything a mother can do for her child."

"But what if we loose her?", she whimpered, but I was a little relieved. At least she had said if 'we' loose her, at least this was no longer about her own perceived shortcomings.

"We won't loose our daughter, sweetheart," I said with conviction and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You heard Naomi today, a few days of rest and you'll feel better again"

/

When we had woken up in the morning, the swelling in Sharon's legs had gone down a little, but she still had that headache. She looked at me with a sad little smile when we were getting ready to leave the apartment. I know she was wondering whether she would be able to come back here with me after the appointment and I held for a moment while she seemed to be saying a silent goodbye.

There is nothing that can describe the joy and wonder I feel when I see the image of our daughter. Sharon's eyes lit up at the sound of the rapid heartbeat alone and together we watched the screen, mesmerised by our little girl.

"You are doing well, my love." I whispered into Sharon's ear and felt her smile against my lips. "You are growing a perfect baby."

Naomi ordered a veritable battery of tests, drew blood, took Sharon's blood pressure and finally came back with the test results, sitting down with us to go through them together.

"The good news first. Everything is fine with your daughter, she's very active, she's growing at the right speed. No concerns there."

I looked at Sharon, the relief as clearly visible on her face as it must have been on mine.

"At this point," Naomi continued, "our main priority is to manage your blood pressure, Sharon. Yesterday and today might be an exception, a reaction to something, but they may also indicate a pattern. I'm sending you home for now – strict bedrest for the next week and regular blood pressure monitoring. If it rises any higher than now, call me. If you feel unwell, call me. Night or day. I'll be checking in with you every morning before I come here."

"You don't need to do that, Naomi," Sharon tried to protest, but Naomi gently stopped her.

"I do. You are my friend, Sharon. No discussion. Now, other than the elevated blood pressure and the oedema around your ankles, you are fine. All the tests have come back negative. That is very good news. My main concern was preeclampsia. We've talked about that at the beginning of this pregnancy, you have a higher risk because of your age. It's something we need to watch out for."

I remembered that conversation with Naomi about all the risks and possible complications of the pregnancy. I had been frightened out of my mind, scared of loosing Sharon, scared of loosing our child. I took a deep breath and heard Sharon sigh next to me.

"I can do that, strict bedrest, blood pressure monitoring. What happens if my blood pressure doesn't come down?" That question had been on the tip of my tongue as well. I squeezed Sharon's hand and fixed my eyes on Naomi.

"We will admit you and use medication to control blood pressure. But we are far from that point still."

I wrapped my arm around Sharon and pulled her head against my shoulder. This was not so bad, certainly less scary than seeing her in pain from the contractions. But Sharon wouldn't have been Sharon if she hadn't continued to ask.

"And if I do develop preeclampsia?"

"That will depend on the involved organs and the severity of your symptoms."

"Oh come on, Naomi, you are talking like a lawyer now! What do I need to prepare myself for?"

"You'll remain in hospital for the rest of your pregnancy, we'll monitor both you and your daughter closely and manage your symptoms. If the risks for you become too great, or your baby isn't getting the nutrition she needs, we'll deliver her. Sharon, don't think about what could go wrong. You've had more dangerous situations during this pregnancy and you have both come through them well. Go home and rest, let your husband here spoil you for the day and I'll see you tomorrow morning."

/

Sharon is now sleeping in my lap. She is beautiful as always, her features relaxed, the ghost of the smile she fell asleep with still visible, mouth slightly open and snoring quietly. I love that little sound, even if I wouldn't tell her. It has only started a couple of weeks ago. I trace her features with my finger, barely touching her and she still turns her face into my touch mumbling my name. Even in sleep, one of her hands is resting on her belly, protecting our daughter. It hits me again, how much I love her, how lucky I am to have her.

"I dreamt of you, Andy." Her soft voice wakes me.

" I dreamt of you with our daughter in your arms," she continues with a serene smile.

"What did she look like?"

"Like you, Andy, your brown eyes and your smile. She called you 'daddy' and you called me 'mummy'."

The thought alone was enough to make my heart melt.

"In my dreams, she always looks like you. She has your green eyes and when she really wants something, she looks at me with her mama's pout."

"I don't pout."

"Just wait until you see our daughter copying you."

Sharon just smiles, clearly too lazy to argue.

"Time will tell. In eleven weeks, little Miss Flynn will be here and we'll finally lay eyes on her."

"You are calling her little Miss Flynn now?" Her eyebrow shoots up in a familiar pattern.

"Your last suggestion as I remember was Archibald."

"Well, she does need a name. We need to find her a name, Andy, and we need to start making some plans for our family. We need to finish the nursery and get our daughter some clothes and decide where we want to live and…"

I interrupt her with a kiss. "You've suddenly gone into full nesting mode Sharon, do you have any idea how cute you are?"

"Then humour me. All I am going to do for the next three months is lay here and grow our little girl and look 'cute'. Let's dream together, Andy! We should dream about the future. We will be parents very soon and we need to decide how we want to live our life. We will be raising our daughter together and we have our children and grandchildren to think of, our families, our friends, work. Tell me, Andy, what do want our life to be? How do you want to live?"

"At Christmas I was imagining you with her in your lap, singing Christmas carols. I want a place that's big enough so all of our children can visit us for the holidays. You know, she did look like you in that dream."

"I'm still convinced she will look like you, Andy."

"Our son can look like me, our daughter will look like you."

"Our son?"

"You said we were dreaming, right? In my dreams we have a large family. A house with a porch, a swing. I am going to build a swing for our little girl."

"A kitchen for you."

"I may even teach you to knead dough."

"You would be so kind! You know what I want, Andy? A master with an en-suite and a tub big enough for the both of us."

We do need that. We used to take baths together and it's always been tight, but with Sharon's belly, we haven't been able to fit into her bathtub in a long time. "For all three of us, you mean," I correct enjoying the sparkle in her eyes.

"A sandbox."

"A barbeque.

"A big bed for us, big enough for our little girl to join us in the mornings."

"Sundays mornings in bed with your homemade pancakes."

"A garden with flowers and birds and butterflies."

"You can never have too many butterflies, Andy." I love the cheeky smile that crinkles the skin around her eyes and bend down to kiss her belly.

"And you, my love, you will always have the best butterflies!"

/

We had driven across town to do a few interviews. I had been angry when Sharon announced she wanted to do the interviews herself. I got her need for independence, but I was worried. Those were routine interviews, but even the most routine situations can turn dangerous. Why expose herself, and our baby, when any one of us would have been just has capable? Sharon thought her pregnancy would work in her favour with the women we were interviewing, and it had, but I was still upset. I had only agreed on condition that I could go with her. Not even Provenza had interfered in our rather public quarrel in the squadroom.

Back in the car after the interview, Sharon reached over the console and took my hand.

"Andy, you do realise you cannot challenge my authority like that again? If you disagree with my decision for a personal reason, pull me aside, talk to me in private."

"I didn't disagree with you for a personal reason, at least not only. If you were carrying someone else's child, if Sykes was pregnant, I would have reacted the exact same way."

She raised an incredulous eyebrow at me.

"Okay, well, maybe not quite as strongly," I conceded, "but my point would have been the same."

"A pregnancy isn't an illness, Andy."

We had had a variation of this discussion before when she had accused me of being overprotective, but this was obviously not a case of me being overprotective, it was a matter of common sense. Simple common sense.

"I know, Sharon. But it is double the risk: for the officer and for her child."

"For me and for our child," she supplied.

"For any pregnant officer, but yes, in this case for the woman I love and the child she is carrying, our child."

Her expression softened a bit as she squeezed my hand again. "I love that you look out for us, Andy. I do. But I cannot tolerate behaviour like earlier today. I am your commanding officer and neither our relationship nor my pregnancy changes that."

"Aye, aye, captain."

"Hey! As Sharon, I might even find your protectiveness endearing and there is possibly a point to be made about my need for independence, but as your captain…"

"…you need me to act as your Lieutenant, not as the man who loves you. I know, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

I brought her hand up to my lips for a kiss and she smiled at me. "Since it is lunchtime and we are already here, what do you say we go get something eat? Maybe your friend's little beachside café?"

It was like she had planned this. She probably had planned this. Of course, that was why she had insisted on doing these particular interviews herself probably knowing I would volunteer to join her. Sneaky.

After lunch, she took a quick look at her watch and decreed there was still enough time for a little walk. I had just learned not to challenge my superior's orders, so I took her hand and led her down to the ocean.

"Andy. I have butterflies in my stomach. I can feel them flutter when I look at you," she announced with a wide smile.

"I think I may have some of them, too, and they have a lot to do with you, sweetheart."

"I bet I have the better butterflies though, stronger ones."

I wasn't sure where she was going with this, but Sharon being silly was always fun. I was only just getting to know that side of her. "You have stronger butterflies than me? How would you know?" I challenged her.

"Because, Andy, _I_ can feel them."

"Well, Sharon, _I_ can feel mine, too."

"Where is your evidence?"

"Are you asking me for evidence of the butterflies in my stomach?"

"You're a police officer, I'm sure you know what the word 'evidence' entails."

"Honey, what is this? Some sort of investigation into my feelings for you?"

"Oh no, quite the contrary. I'm about to show you how strong my feelings for you are." She looked completely convinced of her line of argument and utterly kissable.

"With the butterflies in your stomach?"

"Exactly, Andy!" she exclaimed happily and stopped walking.

"So Captain, show me evidence of the butterflies in your stomach."

"Easy. You can even feel them from the outside!" With that she put both my hands on her stomach right where our little one was kicking and looked at me with a smug grin and sparkling eyes.

"Butterflies I put there, no less," I quipped and leaned into to kiss her, my heart beating faster.

"I like feeling your butterflies in my stomach, Andy."

* * *

><p>Author's note: Thank you all so much for your comments! I'm glad there are still people out there enjoying this story. It's certainly turning out longer than I had originally planned. A special thanks to commenter ejrdh. I liked "little Miss Flynn"!<p>

Between all the babyfics here and the research for this story, I'm learning more about pregnancy complications than I ever wanted to know!


	21. Sleeping beauty

My gorgeous husband is leaning against the doorframe wearing his grey three-piece suit I love so much, hands buried in his pockets, eyes raking up and down my body making me feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

"Are you ready, my love?" His voice gives me goose bumps.

I nod and check my own reflection in the mirror. I do like what I see. A little make-up that brings out my green eyes, my mother's pearls, my hair is full and glossy, the soft light and the extra weight from the pregnancy are hiding all the wrinkles. I haven't dressed up like this since we got married. Andy comes into focus behind me, his hands sliding around my stomach, caressing me gently.

"You look beautiful," he whispers, his warm breath hitting my cheek and when I lean back into him, he places lots of little kisses against my jaw and my neck, until he stops, gazing at our image in the mirror. "We do look good together, don't we? Not a day over forty."

He makes me laugh, but he's right. We do look good together. Quite a few days over forty, but good. Happy and relaxed. And Andy … well, he does look _very_ attractive. I could loose myself in this moment, my ring catching the light and sparkling magically.

"You feel even better than you look." He runs his hands along my sides and over my belly. "Remind me to thank Gavin for making sure my wife is always so perfectly dressed."

It's not like I have a lot of maternity outfits to choose from, but the soft grey cashmere dress with the low neckline is one Andy really likes.

"How is little Miss Flynn?"

"I thought we had given her a name?"

"We have," he turns me around in his arms, gallantly kissing my cheek. "Let me take you two out to dinner."

"Mrs. Flynn and little Miss Flynn would love to go out to dinner with you."

The table is set with linen I haven't seen in ages and my beautiful family china and there are candles everywhere in the living room.

"You've outdone yourself, Andy."

"You haven't tasted the food yet. Sit down, my love." He pulls out my chair and makes sure I'm sitting down comfortably before placing another kiss on my cheek.

I feel like I'm on a date, such a wonderful evening with soft music playing in the background and Andy's amazing food. We are holding hands getting lost in the touch and in each other's eyes. Andy compliments me and I can feel myself beam happily, a familiar hum in my chest. I love that he is doing this for me. Just yesterday evening he found me on the balcony looking out over the city. "I need to take you on a date," he had said with a mysterious smile. I love even more that our little one is gentle with me tonight stretching lazily but mostly sleeping.

When we have finished dessert and Andy is enjoying his espresso, I clear my throat and his eyes meet mine. A smile spreads over his face when I slide a small parcel over to him. I made sure to wrap it myself and drew a few hearts on it, because I could.

"You are giving me a present?"

I nod enjoying the surprised look on his face.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

My heart beats faster as I imagine his reaction to my present, the expanse of table we've previously been bridging with our connected hands suddenly too wide. I don't know whether it is because Andy is a good detective and particularly good at watching me or whether my face is just an open book for him to read, but before I can even acknowledge on my own feelings he is by my side wrapping me in his arms. And now I am impatient, because I do want to see whether he likes his present, so I nudge him. "Open it, Andy."

He makes quick work of the wrapping paper and the box. Recognition dawns on his features and before I know it, I am pressed up against his chest, his hands in my hair angling my head so he can kiss me - and what a kiss it is. It's almost too intense and I can feel the muscles in my abdomen contract painfully in response to the stimulus. Oh well, this is worth a little discomfort. Andy is the one who pulls back first, smiling down at me and tenderly running a hand along my cheek, his fingers warm and familiar against my skin. His next kiss is to my forehead.

That's the reaction I was hoping for. My heart is still beating a little faster and I rest against his chest with my eyes closed when I hear his voice in my ear, "Will you put this on my finger?"

I take the ring out of the box. It matches the one Andy gave me and I've held it a few times during the past weeks imagining this very moment. Andy's hand in mine is warm, heavy, familiar and a bit humid. He is nervous, I realise, and I take the time to find his eyes and smile. The ring slides on easily, a perfect fit, just like we are.

/

This past week at home with Andy has been just that, perfect. We finally have time for each other, for all the little talks and gestures, questions and caresses that are so important in a relationship. It does us both a world of good to be able to sleep in and just spend time together. It's like the honeymoon we never went on. We don't have any responsibilities but to be together. Well, Andy does go on the occasional food run and he cooks for me, but mostly, we lie in bed and cuddle, talk and sleep.

I should do the calculation at some point, I feel like we have spent an inordinate amount of time in bed together over the past months. For all the obvious reasons, of course, but for much more. Andy proposed to me in our bed. We've held each other when either one of us has been scared or upset and many more times when we just enjoyed being together. Here, we have laughed and we have watched my stomach grow and the kicks of our girl get stronger and stronger. It's here that we have come together at the end of a day at work to just be us, two people in love rather than Captain and Lieutenant. I bought this bed when I moved into the condo treating myself to the luxury of a king-size even though I was alone. I had not expected to share my bed with a man again, let alone conceive another child here.

At the end of the week, I notice a profound change in me. It's not just my blood pressure that has been returning to normal levels and my anxiety that has been replaced by a quiet joy and pleasant anticipation of the birth of our daughter. My appearance has changed, my eyes are clear and have such an intense colour now, there is colour in my cheeks and my belly is really growing. Naomi had said that I could be gaining a bit more weight with my pregnancy and Andy had seemed determined to make that happen by constantly spoiling me with all my favourite foods and feeding me little delicacies he's cooked or baked throughout the day.

/

We were lying on our bed, facing each other. Andy was feeding me vegetable quiche he had made earlier, placing piece after piece into my mouth and visibly enjoying the process.

"You are such a mother hen, Andy," I laughed between two bites. Gosh, this really was delicious, particularly all the kisses I got in between bites.

"Nuh, you're the mum to be, what I'm doing is called looking after the woman I love."

Andy, always looking out for me. Maybe this was the 'in' I had been looking for to start a conversation of who would look after _him_. Well, of letting _me_ look after him.

"You are doing a great job looking after me. How are you holding up, Andy?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Don't deflect, I'd like to know how _you_ are feeling, Andy."

"I'm feeling fine. You're the one carrying our little girl."

"Hard to miss, uh?" I caught his hand that had been about to put another piece of quiche into my mouth. "I'm carrying her, but you're her dad, and you're my husband, you are just as much affected as I am. You are always there for me, you are always looking out for me. I honestly don't know how I could go through this pregnancy without you."

"My guess is you wouldn't be pregnant without me."

"Andy, sssh. Don't joke. Take a compliment from me. You are a wonderful husband, there is not a day that does by that I am not so grateful for having you. But this pregnancy hasn't been easy on your either. You've been by my side, by our side, through some very difficult moments. The ambulance rides, your wife collapsing in your arms, the time at the hospital." I looked into his eyes and I could see he really was listening now.

"So when your wife asks you how you are doing, I think you should tell her. I love you, Andy. I know this harrowing. We need to keep talking so we don't loose each other in all the worry. You have every right to be worried, to have doubts. You remember those years when we were just friends?" The memory made me smile. I had liked being friends with Andy.

"We used to tell each other everything, we used to talk about what worried us and what made us happy. The early days of our relationship and the pregnancy were still like that, but now our whole life seems to revolve around the pregnancy, around me, around our daughter. I don't want to loose you in all that, I don't want to loose what was so special about us. My body may be struggling with this pregnancy, but my heart is here to support you and be your friend and your companion. Andy, my darling, I want you to know you can tell me about your doubts, your insecurities, your worries as much as all the happy moments, the joys."

I stopped and took a deep breath. That had been a long speech and I had watched him throughout. Something in his features softened as he put aside the plate with the food and kissed me, a chaste kiss on the side of my mouth. Then he took my hand and brought it to his lips, smiling at me.

He opened up to me like he had before the pregnancy had become so fraught, so fragile, but he wouldn't have been Andy if he hadn't always managed to wave in a compliment for me. It was flattering, and somewhat infuriating, but he was talking and I was able to catch him.

"I am so grateful that you are home with me," he said, "that you are not in pain, that you don't have to stay in the hospital this time. I am so grateful that tonight I'll get to hold you and go in search of pillows for you. That when I wake up, I get to watch you sleep and if I'm lucky, our girl is awake and I can feel her move."

The pillows? If had been in his place, that would have been one of the most annoying things about me. It annoyed me having to resort to ever more tricks to find a comfortable position for my pregnant body.

"I constantly worry about you. It hurts me to see you struggle your way through this pregnancy. I feel so powerless, so helpless in the face of your pain. I can't change anything. I can hold your hand, but I can't stop your contractions. I can hold you when you are anxious, but I cannot promise you everything will be well. There is no suspect here, nobody to blame. That's hard, Sharon. If anything, I only have myself to blame for all your pain."

"Andy, why would you blame yourself for my pain?" Why would he? I was pregnant and at my age, that almost automatically came with some discomfort.

"It's fairly straightforward, sweetheart. I blame myself for getting you pregnant in the first place, for not thinking about the consequences of my actions."

"Andy, you need to know that I would do the same all over again. If we were to rewind our lives, I would make love to you again and I would get pregnant again." If anything, we were both mature adults who should have considered contraception. I was as much at fault as Andy was for that decision. "I would not change this pregnancy, as difficult as it is and may continue to be. I am happy that I am carrying your child."

"Me too, Sharon. It's not that I regret having a baby with you. How could I? I'm so excited that we a having a daughter together. It boils down to that. It's just hard to see you suffer and those moments like now, when you are relaxed and smiling, I need them. They are the silver lining when I feel overwhelmed. I love seeing you like you are now, so relaxed and confident and happy. I need this. I need these happy moments."

"So do I, Andy," I reassured him. " In the end, what we are living is a miracle. A baby at this stage in our lives is an absolute miracle and however difficult the pregnancy may have been on me so far, our daughter is perfectly healthy. I don't mind the pain and the discomfort, because our little girl is growing and getting bigger every day. And look at us: isn't that a miracle, too? The ice queen and the hothead?"

Maybe I shouldn't have said that last bit because he inhaled sharply, his features clouding over. I reached out to run my hand down his side silently asking him if he was okay. His fingers curled around mine.

"There was a time when I called you that and I never apologised, Sharon. All the name-calling, the awful talking about you behind your back. How can you not hate me?"

"Oh Andy, that was years ago. You have changed. I won't hold your past against you. This," I took his hand an rested it on my stomach "you and I and our daughter, we are not about the past, we are about the present and the future. Just for the record, the children and I had so much fun when I told them about Darth Raydor. Ricky thought it was hilarious."

"Still, I am not proud of that. And really, Sharon, I was an idiot."

"According to your best friend you still are. We both are. You know what? I love being idiots with you. I love you, Andy."

Andy had put his lips against mine after that in an intense yet infinitely gentle kiss that soon had me humming in pleasure pushing all thoughts from my mind for a moment.

/

When we are getting ready for bed, he asks me how I found a matching ring without even leaving the house.

"It seems that our daughters are just as ready to conspire with me."

I like the idea that Nicole and Emily are "our" daughters now just as much as the one I'm still carrying. The merging of our two families has gone remarkably well so far. I'm not so naïve as to believe that it will always be like that, but I think we have a good basis on which to build this family.

I am grateful that all our children are accepting of our relationship and our love, but even if they weren't, I would not give up Andy for anything, my best friend and my beloved husband.

/

"I have a surprise for you, sleeping beauty."

"Oh, you do? Come here, let me kiss you. I haven't seen you in almost two hours!" I sat up and waved him over to pull him into a tight hug. He smelled wonderful, all Andy and fresh air and something else. Wood? Pine, I would guess.

"Slept well?"

"Mmh."

"Miss me?"

"Always. You smell great, like you've been chopping down a forest."

"Let's just say it was already chopped down, all I needed to do was to put together."

"You set up the nursery? Andy! While I was sleeping? How come I didn't hear you?"

He pulled back and kissed my nose. "You just need to know everything, don't you? Turns out your balcony comes in quite handy for DIY and I might have had some help from Rusty. Come, let me show you, we've been waiting for you to wake up."

The pride on Rusty's face when he showed me his sister's cradle was impossible to miss and Andy stood next to him with an equally proud look on his face. Over the past months, Andy has really stepped into the role of father for Rusty - much like I stepped into the role of his mother all these years ago. Rusty now actually asks Andy for advice. Next to finally having the nursery finished, which was obviously a relief, Rusty's proud and happy face was the best part of this day.

That night, I found Andy in our daughter's room. It's painted in a beautiful mix of warm yellows and oranges now. All Andy's handiwork, too. I quietly lowered myself onto the bed and watched him. He was completely absorbed in his work on the cradle and didn't even notice me sitting there until he stretched and turned around.

"Thank you for letting Rusty assemble the cradle. I know how much you wanted to do that yourself." Because I do. Andy had talked about it pretty much since the day we found out we were expecting. I like having such a hands-on husband!

"Who am I to stop the kid if he finally wants to do something more useful with his hands than play chess. Little woodwork never hurt any man."

"Did those chess player hands work to your standards?" I joked and he looked like he had been caught, shrugging his shoulders with a cute smile.

"Just making sure…hey, I love the kid, but he's not exactly an expert in this and it's our girl who'll be sleeping in here."

"Quality control, eh?" I offered.

"Yeah, quality control. Don't tell him."

"I won't. I was half expecting you to do that anyway."

"You know me too well."

"Always looking out for the ones you love, not leaving anything to chance if it concerns your girls."

"You do almost sound as though you like that."

I chuckled. "I do enjoy having my own personal handyman and bodyguard. It's part of your appeal, Andy."

Andy got up and sat down on the bed with me, pulling me into his arms. "What happened to Ms. 'I'm gonna climb up the Christmas tree all by myself'?"

"Too pregnant for all that now."

"So you'll start pushing back once you've delivered?" he asked nuzzling his face into my hair.

"Ah, you know, I just might. You better enjoy this while you can." Then again, I might not, at least not quite as forcefully as I used to. "Did Rusty miss anything?"

"No, it's perfect. I'll tighten the screws once more when we bring her home." One of Andy's hands slipped under my top and I hummed in pleasure. I love how he does that like it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

/

Taking my blood pressure has become a part of our daily routine and in the evenings, it's Andy who wraps the cuff around my arm and takes the last reading of the day. I'm already half asleep enjoying the gentle touch of his fingers against my skin when I hear him chuckle.

"You sure know how to flatter a man. I go through all the trouble of a candlelight dinner and your blood pressure is even lower than yesterday?"

Because I am completely relaxed and calm when he is around me. There will come a time when he'll once again make my blood boil, but for now, he helps me relax.

Because everything is ready for our daughter now. Our girl will have a place to sleep and clothes to wear when we bring her home.

Because we are going to be parents. Soon we will have a little baby girl who will need our love, and care, and undivided attention. We, her parents are waiting for her, waiting to give her all that.


	22. In the small hours

I wake up and my arms are empty and when I blindly move my hand looking for her, she's not there. It's a strange feeling to wake up to an empty bed. Sharon gets up at night quite often these days, but usually I wake up as well. She must have gone to the bathroom, I reason and hide my face in her pillow. It smells like her, but it's cold and so is the space beside me. Where is my wife?

I get up and check for her in the bathroom first. It's dark and there is no sign of her. The living room next, but she isn't there either. Then I spot the light below the nursery door and sure enough, there she is, sitting in the rocking chair rubbing her stomach and humming quietly. Her head is leaning back and she is rocking slowly, eyes closed, a look of deep concentration on her face.

She loves that rocking chair. It seems to have become her favourite place during the past couple of weeks. I've often found her sitting in it coming back from work, but never in the middle of the night. She's had trouble sleeping recently, but she's never left me behind in bed. At least not without first telling me to go back to sleep.

In the early morning hours of today, something is different.

/

I had insisted on blindfolding her and she had gone along, though not without protests about how inappropriate it was to play such games with your pregnant wife.

"I'm fifty years old today and 35 weeks pregnant, Andy, and you are playing your kinky games with me!" But her voice had given her away. She was curious about the present I had promised her and when I tied her silk scarf around her head, she had been the one to whisper a few inappropriate words to me.

One arm safely around her and still laughing, I led her into the nursery where I pulled her into my arms fully and kissed her. I loved her response, melting into my embrace and into my kiss, the movement of her lips against mine soft and playful. I could have held her like this for all eternity, her warm body pressed against mine, her hands in my hair.

"You blindfolded me to have your way with me in the nursery?"

Then I pulled away the scarf and she squealed with delight.

"My rocking chair! Oh Andy, that is my old rocking chair. How did you know?"

As if the hours she had spent talking about her rocking chair and how much time she had spent in there with Emily and Ricky hadn't been a dead give-away. She had even shown me the pictures of it in her albums. So I had done some research, talked with both her kids and had finally unearthed the chair in her parents' attic where it had been sitting collecting dust.

Sharon took possession of the chair with a happy sigh, running her hands over the painted wood and beginning to rock back and forth as though she had done it all her life. I told her that Rusty and I had fixed it up together at my place to match the rest of the nursery and her smile grew even wider.

"It makes me so happy to hear about all these father son things you two get up to together. I just hope the blindfold wasn't Rusty's idea, too!"

/

"Sweetheart?" I whisper quietly mindful not to scare her. She hums in recognition, but doesn't open her eyes, her hand still rubbing her stomach. Her face seems to tense a little and the intensity of her hum changes, her hand rubbing with more purpose now. Finally, she takes a deep breath opening her eyes to me, sparkling in a vivid green in the low light. I'm mesmerised.

"Andy, hey." Her voice is soft and warm.

"Can't sleep?"

Another beautiful smile and a shake of the head, a deep happiness emanating from her. I can't put my finger on it, but she is different. Cheerful, expectant, but quietly so.

"Our Lizzie wants to meet her parents."

/

I had come home early and found Sharon on the couch, knitting. I didn't even know she could do that. Knit baby clothes. My heart melted at the sight. She was getting ready for our daughter. I sat down and watched her nimble fingers, enjoying the soft sound the needles made and her regular breathing.

"I've been calling her Lizzie."

"That's what my parents call me," she turned her head to look at me, her hands stilling in her lap.

"I know, I've been in love with in ever since I heard them call you Lizzie at our wedding."

"Lizzie. Do you want to be a Lizzie?" she said thoughtfully, one hand caressing her stomach while the other held on to her knitting. The seconds ticked by and then she smiled at me. "You know, I think she likes that. Lizzie. Lizzie Flynn."

"Yeah? Really?"

"Really. Elisabeth Flynn. I like it, too." She put aside the knitting and put both her hands on her stomach. "You heard that sweetheart? Daddy and Mummy found you a name. You are our Lizzie now."

It was easily one of the most special moments of my life and I was ecstatic. I could continue calling our daughter Lizzie! Then I had second thoughts. What name had Sharon chosen for our daughter? "How about you, sweetheart? What did you have in mind?"

"I like Elisabeth. It was my grandmother's name."

"But you must have some names, too?"

"Lucia." How does she do that? She says but one word and looks at me and I am smitten. I like Lucia. It's Italian and it means light and it was_ my_ grandmother's name. Yes, I like it. I love it.

Sharon was looking at me expectantly, and then I realised that she was waiting for me to react.

"Lucia Elisabeth Flynn," I said and put my hands next to hers on her stomach. "I love it. Was that your favourite choice, Lucia?

Sharon hummed in agreement.

"Then I think we might have just named our daughter."

"Oh Andy, I think we have. Elisabeth Lucia Flynn. Come here, kiss me." And that I did, her lips warm and soft against mine while our Lizzie was kicking underneath my hands.

/

"What, now?" I stiffen.

"Not right now, but she is getting ready." Both her hands are caressing her stomach and she's smiling happily.

"You are in labour?" It is a question as much as a statement, one which she confirms with another wide smile.

"I am."

Calm.

How can she be so calm? Sharon is in labour. I need to get her to the hospital. I need to call Naomi. I need to get dressed. Sharon is in labour. I need to...

"Andy, my darling, breathe. We have hours still."

"But."

"Andy, breathe."

"Oh wow."

My mind is working overtime, but then I feel Sharon tuck gently on my hand and look into her eyes. So green, sparkling with joy and anticipation. Endlessly deep and endlessly calm. I am ready to bounce with nervous energy, to ready to run and do whatever needs to be done, scoop her up and rush her to hospital. Yet she is calm, quiet, with a look so serene. This is the moment she has been preparing for over the past months. Motherhood. This is what it looks like. My Sharon is ready to become a mother.

"So the big day is finally here?" I ask, needing to hear it just one more time.

"It is. Come, sit with me for a while."

Sit with her I do, holding her hand while she rocks back and forth, breathing regularly whereas my own heart can't seem to stop racing.

"Uh, I don't think I can, sweetheart. I need to do something."

"You could get the bag we packed and make me some of that herbal tea I had last night."

I am so grateful that she knows me and understands me. Understands my need to act even when all she seems to crave is calm.

"I can't leave you here."

"We'll be fine, darling. My water hasn't even broken."

Darling. She calls me darling tonight and I love the sound of her voice, so calm and reassuring.

"Lizzie and I will be waiting here for you."

When I come back, fully dressed and with the tea she requested, her hum sounds different. She must be in pain, but it isn't showing on her features. I gently run my hand through her hair and she leans into me. With my other hand on her stomach I can feel the contraction slowly ebb away.


	23. Sunrise

Andy is adorably nervous while trying to stay calm all the same. I wish I'd had a camera to take a picture when I told him. I'm having a baby, it's the most natural thing in the world and after all the terrible scares we've had with our Lizzy, going into labour in the comfort of our own home at 38 weeks is not something that should throw him. Yet it does. He sits with me and holds my hand, trying hard not to fidget and when I send him off in search of some tea, he's ready to jump up only to sit right back down again because he doesn't want to leave me alone.

This is only the beginning, labour has only just started and as I told Andy earlier, my water hasn't even broken. I don't know how many hours I have in front of me. If Lizzie's siblings are any indication, it may still be hours if not a whole day.

Call it instinct, call it experience, when we went to bed last night, I felt I would go into labour quite soon. I'd been having a lot of practice contractions over the past days and given my age, I knew to expect her a little early. At my last appointment Naomi had confirmed that Lizzie had descended and was ready to be born. To be honest, I'm ready, too. I'm so big I can't even tie my own shoe laces anymore.

"Why do you complain about shoelaces when all you wear is ballerinas?" says my husband, my voice of reason.

I can hardly turn around in bed now without Andy's assistance.

"I'm more than happy to help you, sweetheart. You know, any excuse to get my hands on you." And I do like his hands on me, even if it's for the most mundane reasons.

At night in particular I feel as if Lizzie is ready to break out of my womb with all her moving and stretching. Ironically, Ricky seemed concerned about just that when he came to see me for my birthday three short weeks ago.

/

"Mum, how are you?" Ricky had inquired politely.

"I'm very well and I am so excited to see you!" What a lovely surprise indeed to find him at the door that afternoon!

"Me too. Hey Mum, how's my little sister?"

"Oh, she is very well. Growing steadily."

"You're sure she's not, you know, too big?" Ricky seemed embarrassed at his question.

"Lizzie? No, if anything she's a little on the small side. Why are you asking about that, Ricky?"

"Mum, I don't really know how to say this, and it's not because I have been talking to dad, but, are you really okay?" Ricky was clearly uncomfortable running his hands through that mob he calls hair. "I mean. No offense, Mum, but you are huge! Are you sure that this is safe?"

I couldn't stop the laughter that broke out of me, not even with both hands pressed in front of my mouth. "Oh Ricky, it's just as safe as it was when I was carrying you. I've got another month to go and Lizzie has a lot of growing left to do. You, Richard William," I said cupping his face with my hand, "you were a much, much bigger baby than your little sister here!"

My poor Ricky, now that had really made him uncomfortable! Still, I was touched by his genuine concern for me, even if he was so awkward at expressing it.

At Christmas both Ricky and Emily had been quite worried about me being left alone with a child by yet another man and Andy told me later that they had pulled him aside to read him the riot act, so to speak. A part of me still really wishes I had been there to see my petite Emily butt heads with Andy…

It's certainly a strange reversal of roles to have my children standing up for me. But that hadn't been all.

My Ricky, my wild child, had sat down with me, much like he had a few months ago when he questioned my state of mind about Rusty's adoption, and taken my hands in his, fixing his eyes on mine in look that conveyed love and determination and a little bit of insecurity all at one.

"Mum, I can see how happy having another baby makes you. I really can. It is, well, it's big news. Unexpected. It'll take some getting used to, another little brother or sister. But if having a baby with Andy is what you want, if that's what is making you so happy, then I am happy for you."

I thanked him and confirmed that I was indeed very happy with Andy and so excited about having another child.

"Mum, there is one thing I want you to know. I _will_ provide for you. Whatever happens with Andy, or with your baby, should your relationship not work out or if you can't continue to work. I am here, and I _will_ take care of you and provide for you, for both of you."

I had been truly speechless. What happened to my little boy? When had he grown up into such a special young man? All I could do was to pull him into my arms. I was so immensely so proud of him._ This_ was my Ricky! _This_ was my son, the boy I had raised!

/

When I woke up earlier with the telltale ache in my lower back radiating through my abdomen, I knew what was happening. Andy was fast asleep snoring lightly as he always does. He had had a difficult week at work. The team had been hunting a serial killer and he had come home late and left early while I was still half asleep. He was exhausted when we dropped into bed last night and I wanted him to get as much rest as possible. After all, once our Lizzie is here, we both won't be getting much of that. So I quietly extracted myself from his embrace and he mumbled, protesting the loss of contact. It's sweet, no matter how careful I try to be, he _always_ notices when I get up. I leaned in to kiss him and gently run my fingers over his cheek until he settled down again. "Just sleep, Andy. I'll be right back."

Uh, or maybe not. Yes, Lizzie definitely was ready to make an appearance. I quickly left our bedroom because I wasn't sure how quiet I'd manage to stay and I really didn't want to wake Andy, not just yet.

Okay, Sharon, stay calm, I told myself. You've done this before. It's childbirth, nothing out of the ordinary.

I just needed a few quiet moments to myself before going to hospital. Some time to collect my thoughts and my feelings and prepare for the arrival of my girl. I was surprised I even felt like withdrawing from Andy. Shouldn't I crave to have him beside me in these moments? Oh, I did, I do want him by my side, I realised, but I did need to find my balance first. So I went to the nursery and sat down in my trusty rocking chair.

Back and forth, back and forth. The movement of the chair was soothing both me and Lizzie. She was still asleep and I wanted to keep it that way. After all, today was going to be a big day for her, too.

It is really happening: I'm going to be a mum once again, I'm 38 weeks pregnant, I'm in labour and within a day or two, I will have a daughter.

Stay calm, Sharon, I told myself, this is not the point to freak out. Andy is sleeping next door, it would take but one word and he would be by your side. He is not going to leave you. Andy is here to stay. All you need to do is wake him up and he will be right by your side. Just practice your breathing, Sharon, and calm down. You are in Los Felix in 2014. This is not like it was when Emily was born, nor when you had Ricky. You have a loving and devoted husband now.

Back and forth, back and forth, breathing in and out, I could slowly feel my calm return to me.

Back and forth, back and forth, breathing in and out, I could feel myself relax and the next contraction wasn't nearly as painful as the first few were.

Yes, this was better. This was how I wanted to do this. Calm. I didn't want to be caught in memories of a drunken, absent husband and a bad marriage so long in the past.

Back and forth, back and forth, one deep breath after another, I could feel the joy and the excitement fill me. Lizzie!

By the time Andy woke up and came looking for me, I was completely calm and relaxed, quietly looking forward to the day ahead.

/

I sip my tea with Andy looking on. He looks less shocked now, but a little worried and terribly tired. He should really get some sleep – and I should try to as well.

"Can we go back to bed?"

"Are you asking me? You're calling the shots today, sweetheart. Tell me what _you_ need."

"Curl up in bed with you and try to rest."

Andy is so gentle with me, pulling me out of the chair and against his chest before slowly walking us back to our bedroom. I snuggle up against his warm yawning body, closing my eyes when I hear his voice.

"You snuck away earlier."

He says it matter-of-factly, but I can hear the hurt and it cuts into me like a shard. "I know. I'm sorry, Andy, I just really needed a moment to myself."

"Would you like to be alone now?"

Andy looks at me and I know how much this offer is costing him. I can tell that he would leave if I asked him to. He would leave to respect my wish even though it would probably kill him. But I don't want him to leave, not now, not ever. I reach out and touch his face, running my finger over the soft stubble on his cheek.

"I just needed a moment to focus and prepare for today, but I'm good now. I'm with you now, Andy. I'm right where I want to be."

He nods, relieved, smiling at me now.

"You've hardly slept all week, Andy. Let's both try and get some rest. I'll wake you if anything changes."

But Andy isn't ready to let it go. "Promise me, Sharon? I won't be able to rest if I think you'll just sneak out of bed again. Sweetheart, I don't think I can let you out of sight, not now. Please? Or at least tell me you'll be in the nursery?"

He sounds anxious and a bit pitiful and after all these years, I can still feel anger well up in me at Jack.

"I promise you, Andy. I just needed a moment to arrive here, with you. I could feel an old fear creep on me and I needed to get out of that mindset."

"An old fear?"

"Jack. He was nowhere to be found when I had Emily, and the same again with Ricky. All the worries from then have no place here, with us. I didn't want them lurking at the back of my mind when giving birth to our daughter, Andy."

"Damn Jack," he says with emphasis.

"Damn Jack." I laugh and it's such an odd feeling to be lying in bed with Andy, about to have his child, and talk about that fool of my ex-husband.

"I need you by my side, Andy. I don't want to be alone, I can't be."

"And you won't be. I'm here, sweetheart. I'll be by your side."

My face turned into Andy's chest once again and his fingers running through my hair all the way down my back in long soothing movements, I'm starting to drift off. I don't really sleep, but I am happily caught in a state between waking and sleeping. Listening to his heartbeat, my thoughts are starting to wander. I'm remembering our first kiss and the first time we made love, Andy's happiness when he felt Lizzie's first kicks, the surprised faces of our children when we told them about their little sister.

I must have dozed off after all. When I wake up from a stronger contraction, Andy's warm hand has snuck up underneath my nightshirt and is softly caressing my belly. I feel wonderfully calm and ready to face the day. The sun is slowly coming up casting the room in a warm, friendly glow and the sounds of the city awakening are permeating into our little sanctuary. I'd love to stay here all day, have Lizzie here at home with only Andy and Naomi around, fall asleep in my own bed tonight holding my daughter, save in Andy's arms. I had wanted a home birth with Ricky, planned for it, too, but then Jack disappeared once again and it all seemed to scary to do by myself and now I'm too old. I really shouldn't be thinking about this! I sigh involuntarily, alerting Andy who has been dozing against my shoulder.

"Everything okay with you?" he mumbles sleepily.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

He blinks his eyes a few times and then looks at his wristwatch with a yawn. "Just after five thirty."

"Maybe we should go, get to Cedar's before the worst of the traffic?" I suggest turning my head to rest against his.

Or maybe not. Maybe I will just stay like this with Andy and have Lizzie here. Not that Andy would ever agree to that. He's positively thrilled I have finally come to my senses, but shows remarkable self-restraint in not jumping out of bed right away. Instead, he gently supports me as I sit up, kissing me and caressing my stomach while helping me get dressed.

Andy has gone downstairs to put the bags in the car and I'm taking one last look around my condo.

Walking into the nursery I see the stack of diapers above the changing table, tiny baby clothes neatly on the shelf next to them. We've put up a photograph of us above Lizzie's crib. It's from our wedding day and we are in the process of cutting the cake. We both look relaxed and incredibly happy in that picture. I'm gazing at Andy with so much love and he looks right at my belly, all the proud father to be. I love that picture. It's just us, unpretentious and real, two people expecting a baby. Buzz took it without us even noticing. I can feel myself smiling. The next time I'll walk in here, I'll be holding Lizzie in my arms!

Back in the living room I look out over the awakening city. I can feel another contraction coming and move towards the couch to sit when I suddenly feel faint and the room starts spinning around me, blackness enveloping me.


	24. Lizzie

There are moments in your life when one split-second decision makes you question everything else. Moments in your life when you wish more than anything that you had acted differently. When you want nothing more than to turn back time, a few minutes, a few seconds even, and act differently, respond to what you see happening before your very eyes. This was one of those moments.

I let myself back into the apartment and I could see Sharon standing at the window, swaying, moving strangely. I was about to make a joke when I noticed that something was seriously wrong. There was no direction to her movements, she was swaying while trying to move, her hands desperately searching for purchase.

It all happened at once. Before I had even finished my thought I felt myself catapulted towards her, desperate to reach her before she hit the ground, my arms going around her to pull her against me.

How could I have left her out of my sight? How could I have left her here alone? A short while ago only, I hadn't even been able to imagine not holding her, let alone be in a different room from her. Sharon, no! Why on earth did I agree to leave her? Even if I had only been gone for a few minutes to put these damn bags in the car.

Because my wife and my daughter, they travel in style, even if it's just for a short hospital stay. Two bags, one for each of my girls and I had joked and said I'd run them down quickly and then come back for the more important part of my charge for today. Sharon had laughed and kissed me and made a big show out of telling me Lizzie wanted to come home dressed befitting the occasion.

If only! If only I had refused. If only I had made her stay in bed or on the sofa on in that rocking chair she likes so much. Anything but this. Anything but having her collapse in our living room before my my eyes.

My mind went into overdrive as lunged myself at her, grabbing her around her middle, pulling her against me as we fell onto the couch, trying desperately to shield her from the impact, trying to protect both Sharon and Lizzie.

Sharon's unconscious body was heavy and unresponsive in my arms when I lay her down on the couch, her legs propped up on a couple of pillows, her face cradled in my lap. I ran one hand over her belly, desperate for a kick from Lizzie.

Nothing.

I was so grateful when she slowly came to, her lids fluttering first, her eyes darting around, a hand immediately going for her belly.

"Lizzie?" I had never heard her sound so frightened.

"Lizzie is fine, sweetheart. You fainted, but I caught you." I had no way of telling if Lizzie really was fine. I had no idea what exactly had happened, but what else was I supposed to say to her? At least she was conscious now and I had caught her before she could fall. That at least.

Sharon grew very still except for her hand that kept caressing her belly, her expression darkening. "I was alone."

"You were, I saw you stumbling when I got back in. God, Sharon, you scared me! Fuck."

"Language, Andy."

Sharon's still Sharon, no matter the circumstances, but I couldn't see the humour in it. My whole body had started shaking.

"Don't language me!" I burst out in anger. "Fuck, Sharon! Do you know what could have happened?"

The expression on her face suddenly changed. Oh God, what had I done? Then I recognised the heavy frown of concentration on her features from earlier. Sharon started breathing heavily and I could feel her whole body tense with the contraction. I helplessly reached out and put one shaking hand back on her belly, the other one caressing her face. Here she was, in labour, and I was shouting at her. What kind of a husband would do that? I _had_ to get a grip on myself and I had no idea how to.

It was Sharon who focussed her green eyes on mine keeping me calm despite her own pain. I don't know how she did it, but just seeing her helped calm me. We looked at each other, me still trembling, her breathing through the contraction. When it was over, she took a deep shaky breath and curled onto her side.

I was so angry. I was angry with myself for leaving her alone in the condo, angry with Sharon for walking around instead of sitting down and waiting for me. I was fully aware of how irrational that anger was. Sharon was the last one to deserve it. _I_ had been the one at fault. _I_ had failed her and then on top of it _I_ had shouted at my wife who had just fainted and was in labour. The trembling in my body just wouldn't stop.

"Andy," I heard her voice, calm and sure. "Andy, darling, you are shivering."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry I shouted at you. I just, I got so scared."

"Get up and walk it off." Her voice was quiet still.

"No, I'll just sit here with you, I'll be fine." I couldn't leave her, not now.

"Andy, I said get up and walk it off!" She hadn't used _that_ toned with me since, well, forever. But Captain Raydor surfacing and ordering me around irritated me even more.

"What?" I asked incredulously, trying to still my hands.

"Andy, darling,", she said, her voice soft again as she put her hand on my chest. "I know you are scared and angry. But you are shaking from all the adrenaline. Please, get up and move around, walk it off. You are in no state to drive me to hospital."

Her touch and her voice grounded me. I slowly got up and started walking while she watched me like a hawk from the couch. She was right, it did help and by the time the next contraction came, I was calm enough to kneel next to her and hold her hand resting my forehead against her cheek.

"I'm sorry I shouted at you," I whispered when the contraction was over.

Sharon smiled at me. "I know you are, Andy. I know you got scared. But I need you to focus now. Can you do that?"

/

When we finally arrived at the hospital and Naomi settled Sharon into her room, I felt like I could at last breathe again. We were here now, surrounded by doctors and nurses. I had gotten them both here safely, now Naomi could take over. God, I had never been so glad to see the inside of a hospital!

"A syncope is an unusual reaction this early in labour, but you are both doing well now. You're only about 2 cm dilated, so you have a few more hours still to go."

I cried with relief when I wrapped my arms around Sharon and held her close, hiding my face in her hair taking comfort in the familiar scent. Then I felt her hand gently rubbing the back of my head, her voice whispering in my ear. "You saved me, Andy. You saved both of us. You did well." I held her more tightly, as much as I dared without hurting her.

"I would suggest you both rest as much as you can now – and do tell me if you change your mind on the epidural we discussed."

"I won't, but thank you, Naomi."

The morning hours dragged on and turned into midday and midday turned into afternoon. The contractions were coming more regularly now. My brave Sharon was back to her calm joyful mood of the early morning hours at home. She was chatting with me and making little jokes, gripping my hand tightly when the pain became too much, smiling at me reassuringly once a contraction was over. Still, over the course of the day I could see her getting more and more exhausted, but she was still refusing any pain relief.

"I had Ricky and Emily like this, and I was alone. You're here now, Andy, that's all I need."

"But you're in pain, sweetheart, and you don't have to be," I tried to argue.

"You're enough."

"I'm not going to feel like I'm not enough if you choose to get an epidural, Sharon."

"No," she said with finality and that settled the issue. I couldn't force her and Naomi assured me that it was perfectly safe for her to have Lizzie like this if she wanted to, even if a lot more painful and more exhausting.

Over the next hours I sat with my beautiful and stubborn wife, helping her shift position when she needed it, making sure she had enough to drink, wiping her forehead with a wet cloth, massaging her back and telling her how much I loved her and how much I admired her for what she was doing.

Night fell, but by then time had lost all importance for us. Just after Sharon had finally started pushing and was resting in my arms between two contractions, she lifted her head to look at me.

"I love you, Andy. I love you so much, but I am about to say some very harsh things to you."

"You get a free pass today, sweetheart."

"I won't mean what I say."

"I know that, honey. Don't worry, there is nothing you can say that will make me leave. I am here and I will stay."

She sighed and rested her head back against my chest whispering quietly, "I need you."

"I'm right here, sweetheart, and I'm here to stay." I ran my hands down her arms, unclenching her hands she had unconsciously balled into tight fists. She hummed at my touch and I could feel her whole body grow limp against me.

Almost an hour later my poor Sharon was crying out in pain and gripping my hands as she gave birth to our daughter. One last valiant push and she dropped back into my arms, groaning in exhaustion when we heard the first tentative cries of our little girl.

I will never forget the moment when we finally laid eyes on our Lizzie, barely a minute old and now screaming at the top of her lungs. Naomi placed her into Sharon's waiting arms and we both gazed at our newborn daughter in wonder. So incredibly tiny and yet so perfect! Sharon bent down to give our Lizzie her first kiss while tears were running down my face.

"Welcome, my little Lizzie. I'm your mummy and this is your daddy. Andy, come meet our daughter Lizzie," Sharon introduced us.

She didn't have enough strength to put Lizzie into my arms herself like she had planned to, but she smiled at me encouragingly. So I picked up our daughter, our miracle, and held her so Sharon could still see her.

"I'm your daddy and I love you, Lizzie. Your mummy and me both love you so much."

/

The first rays of the early morning sun are announcing a new day while in here our day has finally come to a close. Sharon has fallen asleep while nursing Lizzie and our little girl is cradled against her mother's chest, little mouth slightly open, eyes scrunched closed. I'm completely, totally, utterly in love with her. With both of them.

Peace. Joy. Contentment.

I could spend the rest of my life watching them, my heart bursting with love and a tender sort of pride that feels so new. I don't want to ever let them out of sight again, I want to keep them save and provide for them and never let them go.

"I love you, Sharon," I whisper as I gently press my lips against her forehead. "Having Lizzie is the best thing we've ever done. Thank you for giving us such a beautiful daughter."


	25. Nursing

Coming home feels even better than I had imagined it. Andy has picked us up at the hospital and I sat in the back next to Lizzie in her carseat looking at her little sleeping face. She was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world around her. She is so used to our voices that they don't raise her from her slumber. On the contrary, Andy's voice really calms her down.

Now I'm standing in the doorway, Lizzie held tightly against my chest, still asleep. I'm home. It's only been a week and there are fresh flowers on the dining table and a beautifully wrapped present. It smells clean and homely. I toe off my shoes as Andy is washing his hands to take Lizzie from me so I can do the same. She isn't a preemie, but she is small and light and seems so delicate. We just don't want to risk anything. When I take her back I settle her against my chest while Andy adjusts the soft woollen blanket around her, smiling at me.

"Why don't you show Lizzie her room while I get the rest of the bags?"

What remains unspoken is his request that I sit down or preferably lie down just in case I might faint again. Andy doesn't need to say it, I know his worries. I lost a lot of blood after Lizzie was born and I'm a little anaemic still. They've given me a few courses of treatment in the hospital and I'll have to take iron supplements for a few weeks, but I'm tired and I get dizzy quite easily.

I'm grateful for Andy's arm wrapped snugly around my waist as we walk into the nursery. He helps me settle into the rocking chair, bringing a small footstool, a warm blanket for me and the nursing pillow. He really is a mother hen, but I am not going to stop him. His care and attention are just what Lizzie and I need right now. I'm content and happy and so grateful that Lizzie is well, but I am exhausted. Naomi offered to keep me longer in the hospital, but I wanted to go home. Being separated for so long isn't good for either Andy or me. Neither of us sleep very well when the other one is not there. In fact, I don't think Andy sleeps much at all and I just want to sleep in Andy's arms again.

"Do my girls have everything they need?" Andy's warm voice interrupts my thoughts.

I smile back at him happily. "We'll both just rest here and wait for you. Lizzie will get hungry again soon. You're just getting the bags, Andy, you're not heading back out, are you?" I need to know and Andy understands that. He bends down to kiss me, then Lizzie.

"I'll be right back." He puts my phone on the table next to me. "Do you want me to get you a glass of water before I leave?"

"No, maybe some tea when you get back." Lizzie was starting to stir, pucking her little mouth in search of food. "I think our daughter will want to eat before that anyway."

I'm in the process of opening my bra when Andy comes back with a bottle of water and a glass of my favourite mango juice.

"You are such a sweetheart, Andy. Thank you!"

"Anything for my girls." He kisses Lizzie's head again. "You look after your momma while I'm gone. I promise you, I won't be long."

I've always loved nursing my children and nursing Lizzie is no different. I love that moment when Naomi first places my newborn baby into my arms. This tiny little creature I've been carrying for almost nine months and yet I feel like we're only getting to know each other now. Finding out how she likes to be held and cuddled and how quickly she wants to eat and how many breaks she needs. It's tender and intimate, almost like making love to someone for the first time.

I wasn't sure whether I still remembered how to do this, but once Lizzie was in my arms, her little mouth open and searching, it all came back to me. Even though she is quite small, she has been nursing well from the start and I've had enough milk for her. We are happy together, my precious daughter and I. I'm so grateful that I don't need to pump my milk and feed her with a bottle, I'm so grateful she is strong and healthy.

Lizzie quickly latches onto my breast and I watch her while sipping my juice. It's so thoughtful of Andy. Mango used to be my favourite juice, but while pregnant it made me sick to my stomach. I've talked about how much I'd like a glass just yesterday.

I love those moments with Lizzie when it's just the two of us, so intimate and close. It's the time I spend alone with my daughter and in those moments Lizzie really is just that, _my_ daughter. I don't like to talk while I'm nursing and I don't really like to be around people either. I realise that many mothers are different, but I have always been very private. Andy is wonderful. We've never spoken much about this, but he just seems to get me, to get my need to be with Lizzie and fully concentrate on her. Andy will sit with me quietly, an arm around my shoulders, his head resting against mine. He might kiss my hair, a gesture so soft and loving, and sometimes he has taken Lizzie and put her into the bassinet when she had fallen asleep in my arms.

I know have been very protective of her and rather possessive, hardly letting her out of my sight. I'm comfortable when Andy holds her, Naomi I can tolerate, but anyone else is hard if not impossible for me. I wasn't like that with Emily or Ricky. Andy is almost as bad as me. I'm so glad to be home and to be able to sleep in my own bed tonight where we'll be able to lie together with Lizzie between us keeping her safe.

/

I had forgotten just how badly it hurt. Over the years I had forgotten how painful labour and childbirth really were. But I had wanted to be in control of my body and feel every moment of giving birth to Lizzie. I hadn't wanted to be numbed and then there was a risk, however small, that something could go wrong with the epidural. After the difficult pregnancy, I really hadn't wanted to tempt fate. We had known from the ultrasounds that Lizzie would be quite small, significantly smaller than Emily and certainly than her big brother Ricky who at almost 10 pounds, well, let's just say that it was a long and difficult birth. I had prepared myself for a longer labour, but not for the 26 hours Lizzie finally took to arrive. I don't regret my decision, though. Well, at least now I don't regret it, but there were moments I did and when I cursed Andy for his part in it all.

If it hadn't been for Andy I would have given up by the time the sun set and asked Naomi for a c-section. Andy was there, a calm and solid presence that gave me strength. He held me and encouraged me with his strong arms wrapped around me and his warm words in my ear. He was there for me and me only, unwavering in his support.

Andy was so frightened when I fainted. I would have been, too. How I wish I could have spared him that experience. How I wish I had stayed in bed or on the couch. It would have been scary enough for him to find me passed out. He was beside himself when I came to, shivering and shaking uncontrollably, incredibly worried while trying to stay strong for me. My beloved Andy. I had just wanted to reach out to him when the contraction hit. Bad timing.

I'm so incredibly proud of Andy and the recovery he made. He snapped out of his fear and shock. The moment Naomi took charge in the hospital I could see the relief in his eyes and then he concentrated on me. Throughout the long hours that followed he was my rock – and I needed him like never before.

Having Lizzie was so different from my older two children. Hoping against hope that Jack would still come had only made everything more difficult while Andy had been there for me. He had my back. He made sure the nurses didn't stay too long and nobody but him and Naomi touched me. He made sure it was just the three of us when Lizzie was born. Andy knew how much I craved that privacy and made sure I had it.

Nothing compares to that first moment with your newborn when you can finally see and hold the baby you have been carrying for so many months. I was too weak to even hold Lizzie by myself, but Andy wrapped his strong arms around both of us and there she was: our little girl. So small, not even six pounds and yet so perfect. Early, yes, but healthy and she already has such a strong voice! I welcomed her just like I had done with all my children and then I introduced her to her father. And her father was there. Holding me. Holding us both. Crying with joy.

/

Andy quietly slips into the nursery with a cup of tea sitting down on the bed. We don't need words. I know he is there and I know he knows that I know. That's enough. My focus returns to my daughter and it's only when she has fallen asleep that I raise my face and look into my husband's eyes.

Less than a year ago we shared our first kiss and now we are parents. We've built a life together and we have started a family. We have a daughter, healthy and perfect in every way and she is sleeping in my arms. Our daughter who looks just her dad. She has his beautiful lips and I'm sure her smile will be just like his. I know I am biased, but she is just so beautiful.

This is only the beginning of our journey together, but it feels like we have reached a significant milestone today, the first of many.

Andy smiles his lopsided grin and I can feel the butterflies fluttering gently in my stomach.

* * *

><p>Author's note: I can't quite believe this story has almost reached it's end. After this, there is only one more chapter left and I can already tell I'm going to have a hard time letting go of Lizzie and her parents.<p>

I wanted to thank all of you who have so faithfully followed, favourited and reviewed this story. It's been quite a journey!


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